Brothers Grim
by Oldwickedsongs
Summary: Set within the Dark Prince Universe this is the story of brothers: Gideon, Silas, and Lucius Malfoy as they experiance Lord Voldemort's rise to power and and attempt to survive a war that will change the world- and their family forever. Plz. RR
1. Elysian Fields

Author's Note: The long awaited, long ago promised story of everyone's favorite brothers. Come on, who doesn't love a Malfoy story? Please be kind to your fanfic writer and review.

Disclaimer: "If we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended, 

       That you did but slumber'd here while these visions did appear.

       And this weak and idle theme is no more yielding then a dream." 

-Midsummer's Night Dream

****

**Brothers Grim**

**By: Lady Erised**

Along a forgotten coast in England, in a section commonly overlooked by both Muggle and Wizard travelers there stands a house. It is abandon now, with the family that once occupied this house long since relocated overseas (and in doing so, truly living up to what the family does best: fleeing.) There is no house elf to fight off the collecting the dust, keep up to the crumbling walls, or even remember this once proud name. The women that use to prim and preen when the sons passed now shook their heads, sadly and spoke in mute voices about them over tea.

"Such a shame, don't you think?" They would say, tapping finely manicured nails on equally fine china. "That all three brothers should face such an end?"

"I always knew there was something awry about that family." Came the popular counter lament, followed by the muted chide. "Arrogant bunch, don't you think?"

"Yes, but handsome…true enough, very handsome."

"Don't you remember those lovely parties they'd throw? Oh, the parties."

"In that great big house they had…such a lovely house."

"Oh yes, the Fields was so gorgeous."

"Shame, don't you think? To see the house in such a state…"

"Oh yes…pass the sugar, would you, darling?" 

And it was true enough for in all its glory, the Elysian Fields had no rival in splendor. Huge glass doors, and windows opened up the house letting any possible ray of sunlight in. It was set upon a hill, overlooking the ocean and during the day the water adorned it like a crown.  Fine masonry adorned every possible edging, archway and doorframe and was both envied and celebrated throughout the gentry's circles. Snakes, and gargoyles leered at visitors set against the intricate stain glass windows, and rich colored furniture. Invitations to parties thrown at the Elysian Fields were sought after zealously and one was the ultimate status symbol in England's magical community.

The parties began almost immediately after Marjorie Nott married Karel Malfoy. Karel had moved to England from Germany, fleeing from unwanted press concerning some of his less-then-legal business ventures. He had amassed a private fortune that made him both known and hated. Fearing that infamy, Karel, a quiet and simple man by nature, retired and relocated to England with hopes of living a remotely uncomplicated life. In England, he married his niece Marjorie and settled into what he hoped would be a quiet, uneventful life. 

Marjorie had grown up in England, accustomed to the wealth and prestige of the ruling class, and wasted no time in using her husband's wedding gift to her, the beautiful Elysian Fields, to make the Malfoy name a titan among names like Nott, Avery, Wilkes and powerful enough to include Moon and Snape among it's allies. 

And as her womanly duty, she gave Karel what he wanted most in the life: three beautiful Aryan sons, with his own crystal blue eyes and pale blond hair that shone like the sun. There was never a more devoted father then Karel was, but like most German men, he knew there was a strict order of discipline and distance that must be maintained. Karel was a man of the old order of things, a German father who himself had come of age during the 1930's and 1940's; in a time where truth, honor and prestige was won by cunning and strength of character. 

Few families would help shape a time like these brothers were destined too. To say they were a portrait of the times would perhaps subtract from them and make their loses and victories somehow airy and meaningless but at the same time to say they were different for better or worst would take away any reason for me to tell you their stories now. In truth, dear reader, they are as unique and timeless as any story, in any place would be. Theirs is a tale full of everything life is supposed to contain. Their lives would encompass uncontained love, joy and ecstasy, while also dealing with great pain, betrayal, and deceit. The stress that tore a nation apart would do the same to this family but in the golden years of their youth, the trouble times that followed, and finally in the uncertainty and fear that spelled the end- they would be what they always were-

Brothers. 

This is their story.


	2. A Crystal Cabinet

**Chapter One: A Crystal Cabinet **

Karel and Marjorie were fighting again.

Gideon could hear them through the walls, shouting at each other about whatever was bothering them now. It really didn't matter the subject, it never did. Karel was drinking again. Marjorie was spending too much time with her clubs. Karel had his girlfriends. Marjorie had her boyfriends. Karel was wasting time. Marjorie was wasting money. Gideon knew all the words by heart now, and could follow them endlessly like tracing the raised veins of his father's hands, up unto the arm till they disappeared under his shirt and skin. He knew they still existed; they were just hidden. The arguments, like the veins seemed to be something his parents needed to exist, they needed to feel the hate and pain and make their children feel it too to understand. Exactly what he was supposed to understand, Gideon didn't know.

Gideon closed his eyes and pressed his head even closer to the pillow, trying to drown out the words. He had heard them all over and over again and by now, the words sounded like bees coming towards him from a distance. He put one pillow over his face and pushed in an attempt to drown out the bugs but couldn't. They were still there, just beyond the surface buzzing and threatening him like they always did. He heard Karel scream his mother's name and cringed, burrowing even deeper into blankets.

Please don't wake Silas and Luc, he prayed desperately, please.

Gideon jolted up in bed as he heard something shatter down the hall. He heard three dull thuds. He heard a door slam open and Karel shout, "That's enough! I want you out, Marjorie! Get your things and get out of my house!"

"I'm taking the kids."

"The hell you are, you little…"

Gideon stared at the door as he heard his mother's drunken steps to his room, followed by his father's steady, heavy footfall. He swallowed thickly and stared at the door in the darkness; silently willing it to remained close. Don't bring the fight in here, he pleaded. Don't wake Silas and Luc...

He shrunk back as something- probably Marjorie- impacted his door hard and made the whole room shutter.

"Touch my kids, and I'll kill you!" Karel shouted. "You and your little friends!"

"Gideon?"

Gideon swallowed heavily as he threw back the covers and slid out of his bed. He inhaled sharply as barefoot touched cold marble. "I'm right here, Silas. I'm here."

"Luc's crying." Silas said, in a matter of fact tone. Even at five, Silas had this sagely, dispassionate way of speaking. Gideon despised it. When he was Silas' age, the fighting use to keep him up, and clutching for comfort that would not come. But that didn't matter. Right now, only Lucius did.

"I'll get him." Still in the dark, Gideon groped for his wand on his nightstand before starting towards Silas (and jolting as the tussling couple impacted the wall.) He knew it was just warming up, and how this was going to end. One parent would leave to spend the night at their lover's while the other would come and wake him, screaming at him for either doing not doing anything and then beating him when he asked what could he have done.

It would be unfair and incorrect to say Gideon dreaded this fate. He didn't. Having known no other life, it was accepted and even expected. He was just tired of it, that's all, amazingly tired and somehow, with it, wise and older then his eleven years of life.

But, it was better that he went through it, having gone through it and survived for years, then one of his younger brothers who have not go through it and suffer anew. See? It all made prefect sense in Gideon's mind. He could bear it, and so he did. It wasn't noble or sad; it was merely life as he knew it.

In his brothers' bedroom, Gideon handed his lit wand to Silas and crept to the toddler bed where a beautiful blond haired child was curled tightly into a ball, clutching a stuffed dragon and trying desperately not to cry loud. Gideon's thin arms found Lucius' frail body as he lifted him up. Gideon leaned against the wall, and held Lucius to his chest, rocking slightly and motioned Silas to sit on the foot of the bed.

Silas, again being sagely and wiser then a five year old should be, walked to his door, and shut it. The screaming in the hall was now twice removed and distant memory. Lucius was still crying, even as Gideon tried feebly to comfort him. Silas was waving the wand around in the dark, watching the light trail around in the dark like a firefly.

"I want to go see Severus." Silas said, idly. "Kai said we could…when mom and dad yell…he said."

Lucius was sobbing for his mother, and Gideon, pushing back yawns and his childish desperation for sleep, was trying to maintain some semblance of control. He didn't know exactly why he needed to look in control or in charge, but it made him feel better so he allowed it. He looked over and nodded. "Alright, Silly." He whispered. "We'll go."

Silas' cool exterior broke into relief as he darted towards the fireplace. Gideon called him back sharply and he turned, shyly and started. "You said we could!"

"Put your hand in my pocket and keep it there." Gideon ordered, as he shifted Lucius in his arms. The boy burrowed his head in Gideon's neck and it took everything in him not to move away. Lucius needed touch to be assured, and so he'd get it. He felt Silas' small hand tug into his pant pocket as they walked to the fireplace and stood in it. He shifted Lucius to rest on his hip and with one free hand took hold of Silas' shoulder. Gideon inhaled and braced himself for the unpleasant sensation of being pulled by his bellybutton to Akel Dama.

And was confronted by enormous gold eyes of the Snape Golem. The behemoth was tall and thick with dark brown leathery skin that shone like polished leather. Just under the skin, flowing like blood were strange glyphs that pulsed back and forth to give the creature life. The creature's face appeared waxed over with no attention given to creating a more human appearance; it was devoid of a nose, and ears and there was no tongue in the mouth that added to a subtle eeriness of seeing the creation's mouth form silent words.

And for a second, Gideon and Silas faltered and stumbled back into the fireplace. Gideon's arms tightened around Lucius out of instinct as the Golem reached one massive paw of a hand over to swat at them. Silas made a sound and inched closer to Gideon.

"Deacon, back away, you're scaring the children." Ordered a voice from behind the Golem. The Creature reared up again and turned to regard the man before bowing his head and stepping away to reveal Kaiser James Snape to the children.

Kaiser was staring at the children with his familiar tired eyes and sad smile. Even dressed in a wrinkled uniform and looking beyond exhausted, Kaiser was a sight to be feared and respected. Not a handsome man in the strictest sense of the word, he had his mother's rough, worn features and long nose but didn't hold them with grace, like his brother who was simply beautiful to look at. Kaiser's eyes were dark hazel and almost always hidden under glasses. His hair was dark chocolate and looked black with gray barely beginning to grace it and the scars on his face that cut through his features but didn't take away from the sincere happiness that was on his face at the sight of the Malfoy boys.

"Hello, young ones." He said, happily as he walked towards them. He raised one hand and waved it at the Golem. "Open up the guest bedroom, Deacon, and try not to wake Alchemy. I'll never get him back to sleep if you do."

The Golem bowed deeply, turned and leered at the children once more before disappearing upstairs to complete his tasks. A Golem was difficult to create, even for a skilled Wizard, and even harder to maintain control over. Although not illegal, this from of wordcraft was considered an offspring of the ancient arts of Necromancy and Runes so it was feared and Kaiser had probably created his Golem with this in mind, as well as he desire for protection. He was known for his showmanship, as well as his talent, and no one with half a mind would ever think to question Kaiser on his endeavors. A Master of Transfiguration, and the unofficial King of the immortal Hecate Compound, Kaiser was a sort of living god that had a legacy he wielded like a dynasty.

And Gideon had been completely enamored the Auror God for as long as he could remember. He looked up at Kaiser, and pushed back a yawn. "I'm sorry for waking you, Kaiser. It's just that…"

"No worries, Gideon." Kaiser cut him off. "I was working anyways." He turned and called to his lit office. "Sydney! Malachi! Rio! Get out here. Break time!"

"About time!" Came a voice as the three appeared from his office. The first ones to appear were a couple, the man being a few years younger then Kaiser, with solid black hair and blue eyes that came out first, muttering in German about the lateness of the hour and the woman being a tall, stately beauty with fire red hair and piercing green eyes. The woman wore a gray uniform and looked the most alert of the group, watching the boys with surprise and curiosity.

The youngest of the group, Sydney walked out last. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans with gloves on and his loose, long blond hair hanging over his face. He stifled a yawn and looked at the kids. "Are these the replacements?" He deadpanned. "They just get younger and younger."

"Back off, Sydney." Kaiser rebuked, squatting down and picking up Silas in one arm and taking Lucius from Gideon in the other. "These are my unofficial children."

"I thought I was your unofficial child."

"No, you're my Kaga replacement."

"I resent that." The woman muttered.

"Don't get him started on what you are, Rio." Sydney rebuked.

The woman, Rio, arched a brow and looked at Malachi, smiling. "Back me if I quarrel?"

"Don't you dare betray me, Malachi!" Sydney called.

But Malachi smiled and turned to Rio. "Lead and I will follow."

"Quiet all of you!" Kaiser rebuked, "These kids have already been through a battle, they don't need you apes going at it. Into the kitchen, we need ice cream before we go back to work."

"Ah, Caesar's answer for everything." Sydney proclaimed, as he grabbed Malachi's shoulder and Rio took the other. "All hail Caesar."

Kaiser watched them go, and looked down at Gideon. "I'm sorry, young one. They shouldn't have been so loud. I'll tell them off for you."

Gideon smiled at Kaiser and tucked his hand into Snape's pocket as the Auror began to lead them upstairs. He leaned in closer and rested his head against Kaiser's ribs. The Auror ticked from his pocket watch and Gideon found the sound soothing and comforting. Everything about Kaiser was quiet and safe and warm. His wife Sabine was soft-spoken and gentle with arms that felt like down feathers and could rock and sooth a crying child and made everything better with her lyrical voice. Reiner, his brother, was loud and joyful and could take the whole world and make something happy and adventurous. And Akel Dama was always a hectic wonderful mess whenever he came that felt lived in and loved, unlike the polished Elysian Fields that were adorned like a crystal cabinet and meant to be viewed but never used.

Here Gideon felt love and safety, whereas at home he could find none of it and quietly he envied Kaiser's son. Severus Alexander was a little older then Silas and a quiet but assured boy that rarely ventured anywhere without the reassurance that his father or uncle were somewhere in shouting range. Gideon hated him for that. He hated that Severus was only one child and had a utopia to live in while he and his brothers lived in a beautiful glass prison with parents that could hurt as well as love. He hated hating his parents and felt pangs of guilt as he thought such things, but couldn't stop. Here, hearing Kaiser as he ticked and laughed and hugged and kissed, Gideon couldn't help but envy and despise Severus.

"Here we are." Kaiser's voice broke his musing. He pulled away from Gideon to tuck Silas and Lucius into the huge king-sized bed that Deacon had turned down for them. Silas and Lucius were already asleep as Kaiser folded the warm blankets around them and kissed their foreheads before pulling away and extending his hand to Gideon. "Well, your turn."

"I'm not sleepy." Gideon whispered, watching him.

Kaiser exhaled and watched him in the dark. "It's very late, Gideon. You should rest. Come on, into bed. Tomorrow I'll take you, and Severus out for breakfast at Hecate before taking you home."

"They're going to get mad at me for coming here again."

"Nonsense, I'll take care of it." Kaiser reassured him. "It'll be okay."

Begrudgingly, Gideon walked to the bed and crawled into it. He felt Kaiser fold the blankets around him comfortably and was assured by the warmth that came with them. Looking up, Gideon met his eyes, and took his hand into his. "It's going to happen again."

Kaiser's smile flickered for a moment. He looked down and patted Gideon's hands. "I know." He allowed. "But you know Akel Dama's always opened for you guys if you ever get scared." He looked back up. "You're brave for your brothers, Gideon. Thank you. They're lucky to have you." He smiled again, and narrowed his eyes playfully. "Not bad for a Slytherin. What year are you going to, anyways? Sixth? Seventh?"

Gideon laughed. "No, second."

"Ah, a very fine year. Well, I'll make sure to buy you something for the school year."

"Tomorrow? We can go after breakfast."

"Maybe," Kaiser said, looking towards the door. "I'm working on a very important case but I'll try and make it happen."

"What's the case?" Gideon said, sitting up, excited. "Dark Lords? Werewolves?"

"Go to sleep, Gideon."

"Tell me and I'll sleep."

Kaiser laughed. "That's blackmail, you snake." He chuckled and leaned in closer to whisper in a dark dramatic tone. "Vampires. They've crossed the border into England and I have to make sure they don't attack humans."

"Wow…"

"Very wow-worthy." Kaiser clapped his hand over Gideon's as he stood. "Now sleep and I'll see you in the morning."

Gideon watched as Kaiser walked towards the door and called out just as he was about to disappear into the hall. "Kaiser? Things will get better right?"

Kaiser stopped and turned. Something changed in Kaiser even though his face still looked assured and commanding. It was something in the eyes that made him look older and weaker somehow. "They always do," He whispered. "Eventually."


	3. Veritas

**Author's Note: Unedited and rushed but come on, you don't want endless backstory and neither do I. Just accept it. ::smirks:: I am working on this baby, I swear! Review and hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter Two: Veritas **

Sabine Rinaldi-Snape had once been called the most beautiful woman in France. Small and full-figured, she had a thick wave of light brown hair that rolled down her back in one braid that was entwined always with a navy colored ribbon. She looked awkward in her navy colored Auror uniform as if she were better suited for gowns and robes then fatigues. And it was true enough, at almost 50, her face still held the innately Queen-like features that had so often turned head in her youth. A soft girlish smile, small nose and wide hazel eyes that sparkled from her round face made her beautiful in her own right, marred only by the various small scars that nicked her cheeks and hairline.

But put against Marjorie Malfoy and her lady friends who wore fine robes, hair done up in various styles and skin devoid of any imperfection, Sabine looked coarse, aged and dull. Something that Sabine seemed to realize uncertainly as she walked with them. Gideon watched her from his seat in the study, where he could peer into the parlor and hall where Marjorie and the women had retired after dinner. Behind him in the library, Gideon could hear the men laughing as Karel entertained them. Outside probably wading in the ocean or playing among rocky shores were the children but Gideon ignored them. Most of the kids of his parents' friends were younger then him by many years and he had nothing in common with them.

So instead, Gideon decided to sit at the oversized desk in his father's study and finish his school assignments. The school term at Hogwarts was starting tomorrow and admittedly, Gideon hadn't been spending as much time as he should have been studying.

"Oh, well come on now Sabine. I know you have a secret." Marjorie's voice was soft and teasing as she spoke. "Look, see now you're blushing. Out with it."

"Oh you horrible old busy bodies." Sabine returned quietly. She was sitting with a clear shot to the study where every once in a while she met Gideon's eyes but usually searched just beyond his head to the library, silently willing for Kaiser and Reiner to finish chatting so they could leave. "I don't know what you want from me."

"I do." Laughed another voice, Lizzie Wilkes, from her place beside Marjorie.

Gideon grimaced. Lizabeth Wilkes and Rebecca Crabbe were his mother's right and left hands. Whatever went down in England's magical community was first known and shared by these three harpies before it ever would reach print. Who was sleeping with who (or what), divorces, bankruptcies, murders, and dark dealings were all fair game to them and was spoken of casually over the afternoon tea in fine china.

Sabine blushed again and looked down at her cup. She became aware that her she was missing the nail on two of her fingers and withdrew it, placing it on her lap and smiling as she looked up again. "There's nothing to out, Margie."

"How's the baby coming along?"

"Alchemy is hardly a baby anymore, Liz…"

"I didn't mean that one." Wilkes grinned as she reached over and patted Sabine's stomach. "I know you and Kaiser are trying again, but you're so old, darling…"

"Thank you for cordial."

"Anytime. Are you sure Kaiser won't try and put you away if you can't produce another heir? You know how men are about boys…"

Rebecca sipped her tea, "And we all know how Kaiser does love little boys."

Sabine frowned, turning her full attention to Rebecca, "You vicious woman, how dare you speak of my husband in such a manner."

"Oh don't act so enraged, Sabine." Marjorie laughed. "We're only saying Kaiser enjoys the company of his young protégés and we all know that you would prefer time with Reiner instead of typical work." She kept her smile until Sabine had looked down and then looked at her friends, knowingly. She grinned again and pressed on. "I mean after all, there's all that talk about Severus' lineage."

"What talk?" Sabine asked.

"Well, it's certain the boy is a Snape but you know how Kaiser was gone for most of that year and well, it's always been wondered where on earth did you find the time to conceive."

Sabine looked caught. "I love my husband, I would never do anything to him…"

"We know dear. But there's no mistaking the way you and Reiner look at each other. If you ask me, he's the cuter of the two…and since he has never chosen to marry, and Merlin knows it's not for lack of opportunity. I think you have a sweet deal." Marjorie smiled again. "Two for one."

"And I believe it's late." Sabine said, standing. She looked visibly shaken and smiled at them uneasily. "I better fetch my husband and go."

Marjorie remained silent and watched Sabine disappear into the study before reaching down and pulling Silas who was coloring at her feet into her lap. She smiled, ignoring the giggling women and purred into her ear. "You see, little one. All you need to do to create a truth is say it enough times. It'll become fact soon enough, all you have to do is wait."

Gideon felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment and anger and turned away furiously. He bowed his head just as Sabine passed, trying with all his might to avoid looking up and staring at her. He was beginning to feel sick and found himself longing for tomorrow already. The sooner he returned to Hogwarts, the sooner he'd be away from here. It's amazing what the longing for peace could make one hope for he thought grimly.

He felt a rough hand on his shoulder and looked up, smiling at Kaiser who had appeared again. Reiner was standing behind him, arm coupled around Sabine's, and talking to her in hushed tones. He glanced at Gideon, nodded then disappeared with Sabine to search for the Heir of Akel Dama.

"I bought this for you." Kaiser said, placing a small velvet blue pouch on the table in front of Gideon. He reclined easily on the armrest of the chair. "I thought you'd might use it."

"Can I open it here?" Gideon asked as he stared across the distance to the little bag. "Please?"

"If you absolutely can't wait." The Auror smiled. "Go ahead."

Gideon shook the bag and stared at the pocket watch that rested in his open palm. It was pewter with a dragon the top, its wings spread about the circle, and inside it revealed a dark blue face and gold hands that kept the time. Inside on the cover was an inscription: To Gideon, a King among Children from Kaiser with love. Gideon gasped a little as he twirled it over and over in his hands, not wanting to harm it.

"Oh…thank you, sir." He whispered in awe. "Thank you so much."

"There's a small button on the side." Kaiser said, motioning to it. "…Right there." He smiled. "Press it."

Gideon blinked and obeyed. The watch's blue face became murky and for a moment he thought he had ruined it until the face cleared again and revealed his brother Silas tumbling on the grass with Severus in the grass outside the Elysian Fields. He pressed the button again and the scene changed to Lucius who was sitting in Claire Crouch's arms as she watched the kids skip stones across the ocean. One more push and the clock's face returned to normal. He smiled and looked up at Kaiser, excitedly. "Thank you, sir."

"Don't call me sir." He replied and played with Gideon's hair. "I figured this way you could keep track of your brothers while away at school. Hopefully it'll give you some peace of mind." The Auror stood again, and Gideon watch in awe for a moment as Kaiser took the time to soothe his robes out and run scarred, aged hands over his hair. He looked like an aging King in the dim light, with a sort of majesty that coupled with intense sadness. He turned to Gideon and for a moment, he was certain Kaiser was going to tell him something more. Instead, he merely smiled again, tapped his shoulder and walked out to find Sabine and his brother.

He didn't know it then, but that would be the last time Gideon would ever see Kaiser alive. Had he known, maybe Gideon would have done something different, shown affection perhaps or expressed gratitude or something beyond what he did. But he hadn't for he knew he would see Kaiser again. Kaiser's presence in his life was as certain as the sunset. It had always been and would always be.

  
And for years afterwards, he would always remember the day that that cardinal rule had been shattered like glass. Gideon had chosen not to take his Charms class, deciding instead to stroll outside by the lake and skip stones off the surface. The yards were barren, with most students (save the upper levels who stared at him like if he was an insect then looked away to ignore him) gone into classes. It had been three months since school started, and as he did at least three times everyday, Gideon reached into his pocket and pulled the pocket watch from his cloak to check on his brothers.

Silas was walking along the corner of the tide within shouting distance of their mother who was in the arms of some man that was not her husband, Gideon cursed her angrily and clicked the watch again, to smile in relief as he saw Lucius playing on the floor of their father's workshop, playing with the sawdust. Karel Malfoy's chief hobby was Carpentry and he although the watch made no sound; he could almost hear his father humming to himself in German.

"There you are!"

Nervously, Gideon clicked the watch again and tucked it into his pocket to turn and see Dorian Dolohov walk towards him. Dorian was a Ravenclaw and sister to Gideon's best (and only friend) the Slytherin Caspian Dolohov. Their older brother was also a Slytherin named Antonin who liked to bully Caspian and Gideon when he could. Dorian was a sweet, round faced girl who was popular with everyone at Hogwarts. Gideon liked her, one because she was the only one at Hogwarts thus far that could beat him in a wrestling match and two because she always doted on him and Caspian like some overprotective mother.

"I've been looking everywhere for you!" She exclaimed. "Oh, Gideon I'm so sorry."

"Sorry?" He blinked. "For what?"

"Gideon!" Called another voice, this time it was Caspian and the boy was running towards him out of breath and looking like he had just been in an accident like always. Gideon had never known a time that Caspian was not injured in someway and today, it seemed to be a busted lip.

Gideon smirked at him. "Yeah, yeah…you're sorry too? What's happened? Who do we have to fight this time?"

Caspian stopped and blinked. "Gideon, you haven't heard?"

"Heard what?" Gideon asked, stepping back. He didn't like the siblings were staring at each other warily as if debating which would tell him some sinister news. For a moment, he thought something had happened to his brothers.

But that was impossible; he had just seen them in the watch Kaiser had given him.

"What's wrong?" He demanded.

Caspian looked over and exhaled. "The Daily Prophet's reporting there was a Vampire attack in Sussex late last night."

_Kaiser…_Somehow, suddenly Gideon knew, and looking down, he gripped the watch in his pocket and turned to walk away from them. _No_, he thought, _no…_

"They're saying Hecate Compound made a statement about an hour ago. They said twelve Auror and auxiliary had gone into the village to search out the Vampire nest, and only two survived. They're saying among the dead were…"

"No." Gideon said suddenly, cutting Caspian off. "No."

Dorian walked over, trying to touch his arm. "Kaiser, Sabine and Reiner were among the ones who didn't survive."

"NO!" Gideon screamed, throwing her arm and striking out to punch her. Dorian fell to her knees, cradling her cheek. She looked up, frightened at him for one long moment before he collapsed beside her. Tears burned in his eyes, but Gideon couldn't cry. He was too angry to cry, too full of hatred to understand. He cursed Kaiser. How dare he take away the only comfort that Gideon had in his life? How dare he change everything with one fell swoop?

How dare he die and change the world?__

"No, he can't be dead…" He said slowly. "That can't be right. Aurors don't die…"

"That's what we all thought…" Dorian said as she reached over and took him into her arms. Caspian was right beside her, leaning against him. "I'm sorry, Gideon…I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He whispered through his anger. "I should have known…"

"Known what?"

"That my mother was right…say something enough times and you believe it." Gideon stood and pushed them off. "I have to go inside…floo my dad. We'll have to go the funerals."

"Gideon…"

"He lied, you know." Gideon said, looking back. "He said it'd get better." He shook his head again and went back to walking towards the castle. "It won't. It never will…"


	4. The New Dawn

Author's Note: Sorry it has taken so long with this story and I hope you read and enjoy. I'm working on this story believe me, it's just very slow in coming. Forgive any mistakes, and again, read and review!

**Chapter Three: The New Dawn**

Because he was who he was, Kaiser's death seemed to mark the end of the world. Because he was Caesar, the undisputed Lord of the immortal Hecate, everyone had naturally assumed that he would be immortal as well. It had been like in the olden days of Knights and Kings and clear cut foes, the fate of the world rested on Kaiser's shoulders and he would carry it without faltering. He would live and flourish and the world would be at peace with him. He would flourish and Spring would come, or he would mourn and the world would turn to ash and brimstone would rain from the skies. It seemed natural and right that this be the case, for Kaiser was king.

But Kings were not supposed to die before their duty was fulfilled.

And the understanding that this, the impossible, had happened made Gideon ill. It was odd, somehow, how his whole body ached through the memorial service. Outside there was a prefect white sun that made Akel Dama's gardens gleam like jewels, and the birds sang to each other in wonderful melodies that would have made the day beautiful and lasting. Instead, it made the day spiteful and cruel. He wondered how such a world could exist now, without its heroes, and without its Kings.

He wondered if the world could even function at all now.

From his perch on the stairs, staring into the parlor, Gideon could watch the service from a dispassionate distance and observe quietly how Kings are to be mourned. He tugged angrily on the new black robes he wore, they were hot and stifling and no help in alleviating the utter shock and disgust he felt for being back at Akel Dama now that it had lost its soul.

All around guests milled around in states of uselessness and sobriety, from Aurors dressed in their dark blue uniforms to Illuminatti members dressed in fine, dark color robes. Gideon could see his mother's gossip buddies near the bar, while their men clustered together on the opposite side of the room, looking out into Sabine's wonderfully cultivated gardens. Sitting nearest to the door was one of the Auror Gideon had seen that night before, heavily beaten up, with bandages around his arms and neck. Squatting in front of him was a man with dull reddish blond hair who had his hands clapped over the Auror's, whispering something in that dull voice everyone got when talking at funerals.

"You can't blame yourself Malachi."

Malachi bowed his head, rubbing his eyes with his good hand and looking for a moment like if he was about to break down. "Everything was prefect; by the book, Kaiser said. That should have been our first warning. Nothing's ever by the book."

"Malachi, stop please." The man pleaded softly. Gideon could see bandages on two of his fingers on each hand, and knew he must be a Potions Master. His Head of House Julia Wyvern often used that practice to protect her fingers against becoming calloused. "It's not your fault, it's none of your faults."

"It's someone's fault!" Malachi shouted, and then looked around in horror as a few guests turn to watch him. He exhaled and looked back down. "Look, I'm sorry Joseph. I shouldn't be railing on you. It's just…only me and Patrick got out alive, and what they did to Reiner…" His face became haunted by some nightmare. He shut his eyes for a moment. "Two people, out twelve. That wasn't a mistake, Joe. That was a fuck-up." He shook his head again. "What's going to happen to Severus, or Celeste now? They said Mara…"

"She can't come down." Joe replied. "They say she's inconsolable, almost mad with grief. Mara has said there'll never be another Akel Dama heir in Hecate as long as she lives."

"I can't say I blame her." Malachi muttered. "Severus is the only male heir now, and if something happened to him Akel Dama will be broken…but God, she must realize…"

"I know," Joseph whispered in reply. "But it's selfish and cruel of us to pin all our hopes on Severus. He's just a child."

"He's more then just a child and you know it."

"But he doesn't need to know. Let him be a kid, Mal. Let him have his dreams. That's all he has left…"

"And they're such beautiful dreams."

Joseph appeared ready to speak again but something near the door caught his attention. His face twisted into an expression of pain and trepidation. Malachi followed his eyes, turning and sitting up. The Auror's face turned into one of disgust and outrage. Gideon pulled his attention away from them and searched the room. The Illuminatti all turned, glancing curiously at the door frame, while the Auror and Hecate personnel began to mumble under their breaths in terse, angry voices that mirrored Malachi's sentiment more then Joseph's. At first, Gideon was confused. There were still many people that had not arrived, and the sudden change of mood startled him. Interested now, Gideon turned to the doorframe and to the object of the controversy.

It was an elderly man in a gray uniform like the one Rio had worn standing composed and steady in the doorframe despite the glares he must have been aware of. He had a regal bearing about him, that seemed to make him older then he appeared, and thick lines aged his brown, weather beaten face. He was leaning heavily on a cane and as he walked there was awkwardness to his pace as if he was still becoming accustomed to relying on something for guidance. His hair was folded behind his ears, but bangs hung from his crown, shadowing his somber cloudy blue eyes.

Eyes that were now gently weeping as the man walked straight through the parlor, into the ballroom where three coffins laid in state, awaiting burial tomorrow. He walked slowly, but steadily, chin raised in dignity and resolve that didn't falter as two Navy robed men Gideon had never seen before blocked entrance to the ballroom.

"You can't go in, Creature." Said one. "And you know that."

Gideon rose from his perch, feeling in his gut he had better be close to his family now that the mood had changed. Marjorie nodded to him in assurance and held Lucius a little closer to her chest, while Karel took Gideon by the shoulders and tugged him closer. Like most Illuminatti, they appeared to have no clue what was going on and who this "creature" was. But Tristian Moon looked sick at the sight. Gideon glanced over at him, searching the man's face, and only half noticing his companion, known only as Caleb, rub Tristian's back lovingly. Gideon wondered for a moment where Claudia, Tristian's wife, was. The only other person to share in Joseph and Tristian's pain seemed to be Gideon's uncle Conaire.

Conaire Malone was still a complete mystery to Gideon as well as much of the Illuminatti if Marjorie's gossip buddies were any indication. They described him as handsome but aloof and slightly unnerving if one spent too much with him. Rumors placed him as an American despite the accent that sound vaguely like Irish, but he had spent time in the Middle East, or Eastern Europe; they never knew for sure. A man of expression, Conaire rarely spoke, opting to allow his wife and Marjorie's sister Isolde handle the social situations.

Presently, he was sitting at the bar poised like a aristocrat, holding his short glass at an angle as he leaned forward to whisper something into another man's ear. Conaire's wild curls of brown and auburn hair framed his narrow face and fell over dark sunglasses that hid a abnormality. Unlike everyone else in the home, Conaire was dressed in a bright pale gray jacket that looked almost white, with like pants. It occurred to Gideon a moment later how similar the suit looked to the old man's uniform.

The man he was speaking to, Gideon had never seen before. Not polished or regal like the gentry or even proud and righteous like the Aurors, this man was short, slender but not weak, with a thin workman's frame that curved the muscles of his arm but failed to strengthen his shoulders. His face was square, and innocent, with dark, brooding eyes that raged with hatred the man had the wisdom to keep under reigns. His clothing was simple, downright laughable in its humility when set against any of his crowd's fineries but the respect he held himself with rivaled them on. He struck Gideon immediately like a King who had yet to assume his throne. The man turned away from Conaire, meeting Gideon's eyes for a brief second before turning back to the scene. Gideon shivered despite himself.

"I knew Kaiser before he was King." The old man was saying and although there was strength there was also unspeakable sadness. "I cared for him as a child, nurtured him as the boy and returned him to Hecate as the prince you made into a King. I will not be denied the right to say goodbye."

"You did your duty and completed your mission." The Auror countered. "There is nothing here for you."

"There is the man I loved like a son."

"Your kind does not love."

"What do you know of my kind, Creator?" The man asked quietly, but his face was beginning to tighten around the eyes and his voice gradually became steely. "I am nothing to then the tattooed number and a tool for you."

"You are nothing to me then an enslaved beast that has its purposes." The second Auror hissed angrily. The first one reared up. "Remember your place. Kaiser might had treated you like an equal but you're still an animal."

The man's head never moved but Gideon saw his eyes scan the room, before forcing down his head. "Forgive me, sir." He whispered. "Allow me to attend to my Master one last time." There was a long beat. "Please."

"Get out of here, Creature!" Called another Auror from the corner. There was a cheer near Gideon and then another voice. "Yes! Send him out, Stallens!"

"His kind is not welcome here!" Cried another. "It's beasts like him that killed Kaiser! Domesticated, friendly…" The voice continued. "All creatures should be put down!"

This caused Caleb to make a movement, and Tristian to put his hand over Caleb's. Gideon frowned, looking at the Aurors. He still didn't know what this man had done but his presence seemed to turn Auror grief into deep anger.

"Get him out of here, Stallens, you heard him." The second Auror said to the first, Stallens.

The man was leaning away from Stallens now, and with one sharp final look around him, he took a deep breath and strolled forward past. Stallens pushed the old man fiercely, depriving him of his cane and causing the man to fall backwards. The sight of the old man hitting the ground made the civilians in the room jump and squirm but the Hecate personnel didn't seem to notice. A few of the Auror were smiling, while the others lightly applauded. Malachi had turned away and reached over the bar to pick out a bottle to make a drink, completely ignoring the scene; he had taken off his coat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt revealing a small crooked string of numbers that were tattooed on the inside of his left forearm.

The sharp yell from the ballroom's doorway jerked Gideon's attention back to the scene. Stallens had the man's cane raised over his head as if he had meant to strike him with it, before his uncle Conaire had come to the rescue, following the example of the man Conaire had been talking to.

"Let the man see his son." The Good Samaritan demanded, jerking the cane from Stallens hand and turning back, to offer his hand towards the man. Stallens' friend made a motion to aid him but Conaire pushed him back against the wall hard.

"I wouldn't do that." Conaire whispered. He slid his sunglasses down to the tip of his nose to reveal expressive gray eyes that seemed to discern and understand everything that was real and tangible but it was not his eyes he had meant for the Auror to see: it was the thick ugly tattoo under his right eye. It was Arabic script with what appeared to be a number inked in under it. He smiled dangerously. "We Creatures are everywhere. You okay, sir."

The Samaritan was handing the man his cane back. "I'm fine, Conaire."

The friend seemed undeterred. "You think I'm scared of you, Hecate?"

"Malone." Conaire corrected. "And yeah, I do."

"I don't want to ruin this event," The Samaritan told Stallens. "But I will…"

"No you won't." Called a soft voice from the parlor's entrance. Gideon and the rest of the room turned to gaze at the small figure.

Severus Snape was standing like a boy-king in his black robes. His hair fell into curls around his face like a halo, and his eyes were red from tears but he had a dignity and quietness that silenced the room. He looked awkward in his crisp black, and as if to prove he was still a child, he carried a toy in his arm, a stuffed turtle that he kept close to his heart. Behind was his Aunt Celeste, who was watching the room but allowing her young nephew to speak.

"Stallens, Ward." Severus continued, look down and sickened by his duty to maintain the peace at the end of his world. "This is a funeral. Please be good." He moved to Celeste for comfort but his Aunt stepped back, unwilling to allow the Heir of Akel Dama to appear weak. Severus flinched and began to cry but his voice remained dull. "Alexi, please say goodbye to daddy, mommy and Reiner if you want. I say you can."

"Thank you, Severus." Alexi Hecate whispered, and then motioned for him to come. Severus, desperate now for some comfort, ran to the man's waiting arms. Alexi wrapped his arm around Severus' frail shoulders, pausing only to turn and bow to the Samaritan in respect before walking into the room with Severus.

After Severus had left, it was Ward who leaned dangerously close to the Samaritan and hissed. "This isn't over."

The Samaritan nodded. "No. It isn't."

Now that the crisis had dissipated, the room began to buzz again as the people turned back to their drinks and tried to forget the pain. The Samaritan walked back with Conaire towards Karel, Marjorie and Isolde, and when Marjorie thanked him, he blushed and looked away. Conaire laughed and slapped him on the back.

"Look at my King," Conaire said proudly, leaning over and tickling Silas' cheek before kissing Isolde's cheek. "And mark me, there's no other man I would follow to hell."

"Are you an Auror?" Karel asked.

"Hardly." The man countered. He seemed uncomfortable being called King but Gideon saw a smile touching the corner of his lips. "I'm just…a dreamer."

"Oh?"

"Riddle wants to change the world." Conaire supplied. "And he might just do it."

Marjorie asked. "That your first name?"

"No, it's Tom. Tom Riddle." The man supplied and this time looked sincere in his loathing of the name.

"And how do you want to change the world?" Isolde asked.

Tom smiled softly and looked down at the drink Conaire handed him. "I want to stop letting blood spill for useless causes this it has. I want us to stop fighting supposed monsters like Vampires, or Werewolves just because they're different and focus on the real enemy."

"The real enemy?"

"Those who would challenge peace and belittle blood." The man said simply. "Look at this, the Snape family has spend centuries almost, serving their cause and yet at their funeral young fools treat their sacrifice like dirt. They care nothing for our precious blood and how much of it will be shed to keep Muggles safe at night? How many more of our heroes will suffer and die while our government fawns over those who will not help themselves. Stallens blamed the Creature, but it is not he to blame. It's creatures like half bloods and Muggle born that fail to understand the seriousness and responsibility that comes with our blood. They believe our magic is nothing more the parlor tricks and cheap amusements…how long will we allow this?" The man turned away, looking seriously distressed. "How much will pay till it's enough?"

Gideon looked up and was surprised to see Conaire and Marjorie nodding in agreement. Two couples near by the Crabbe and Avery were leaning over and smiling, impressed with the younger speaker. He saw Conaire met Tom's eyes and nod. All seemed enraptured with this new darling.

_"We've heard this before."_ Gideon heard his father mutter to Isolde in German. _"And the brown shirts marched through Berlin."_

_"Hitler was a fanatic, Karel." _Isolde countered. _"This man is a dreamer."_

_"The only difference being Hitler had weapons. And he doesn't yet."_

_"You sound afraid." _

Gideon waited for his father to counter but Karel had paused, and become thoughtful like he always did when encountering a tough question. Gideon shivered again and pressed closer to his father. He knew Hitler was a touchy subject for all Germans of Karel's generation. He had heard his father's stories over and over again about what Karel had seen growing up in Germany. He had run his hands over the coarse gray uniform that use to be his grandfather's, pushing his small fingers through the button holes and admiring the red cuff with black broken cross that adorned the upper right arm but he had never believed them to be horror stories to be true. But what Karel said next would sear the memory of that Nazi uniform and Tom Riddle together in Gideon's mind forever.

_"I am afraid." _Karel said, _"And you should be too. No good can come of this dream."_


	5. Glimpsing Wonderland

Author's Note: Thank you to Aku Maru, and Amissa for helping with this. Um, the Japanese saying Conaire utters near the end comes from Aku Maru, as does Ymodi. Claudia Moon (as is Tristian Moon, and Caleb) belongs to the beautiful Amissa. And I'll give a cookie to whoever can guess who the names on Con's wrists are? ::winks:: Peter Fechter and his death made the news in 1962 when it happened but the article is me, although the facts are accurate to my knowledge. (See you get a useless history lesson with your fanfic! Who says learning can't be fun? And I think we're good. So read, review and…don't do drugs!

**Chapter Four: Glimpsing Wonderland**

"Angry demonstrations tore through West Berlin today in response to the shooting death of 18 year old Peter Fechter. Fechter was attempting to cross the Berlin War, with friend Helmut Kulbeik into West Germany when guards opened fire. Witnesses say that Fechter laid bleeding in "No Man's Land," the area of the Wall between both sides for over an hour, pleading for help but spectators were kept at bay by the East German guards. Today protesters crowded the streets screaming "Murderers, Murderers, while…" Lucius Malfoy threw down the paper in annoyance and turned to his Uncle. "Why do you make me read this mess to you?"

Gideon cringed inwardly as his brother geared up for another battle with Conaire. Secretly, he too had been growing sick as Lucius read the article, trying not to identify too much with boy who had been killed. He was only a year younger then Peter and didn't like that the boy's photograph resembled him in more ways then just similar ages. Instead, Gideon turned all his attention to readjusting his grip on the rage he used to wipe down the bar till he could see himself in the light brown gloss. He stole a look at his brother between locks of his lazy brown hair. Across the room, he could see Conaire mopping the stage, quietly listening to Lucius and deciding on the best course of action.

Conaire always got that way when he was deciding things and when set against the stage of his Theater-turned-bar, he looked like one of the great Shakespearean actors who were about to move the world with their prose. Gideon liked the Looking Glass because of this dramatic air it lent to everything. It had been standing for over a hundred years by the time Conaire bought and renovated it, turning it into the restaurant/bar it was now. During the evenings, the Looking Glass was bright and lively but during the daytime, like now, it had this quiet aloofness like it's owner, where it seemed secrets were just below it's surface.

"What the Muggles do affect us all, Lucy." Conaire began softly. "You should learn to pay attention to them."

"Why should I care if they kill one another over ideas?" Lucius returned.

Conaire stopped mopping to regard the nine year old with the same sense of innocent amusement he always seemed to have around children. He was smiling in such a way his sad Irish charm seemed to capitalize on; his narrow olive green trousers, old beaten up brown shoes, and white dress shirt that had it's sleeves rolled up above the elbow, revealing tattoos that covered each wrist with names of people Gideon had never met before: on his right bore the name Kaie Emel, while his left held Caedmon Ohannes. On the inside of each, where the vein jutted from Conaire's pale skin was the same date: 09-01-1949. The tattoos and beaten up clothing made Conaire look much older then he really was, and they lent him some infinite sadness that made him appear as if he had seen more terrors then he let on.

It was one of those things Gideon had always meant to ask his uncle about but never found the time for. And now was certainly not the time, as it appeared Conaire was gearing up for another round of his favorite pastime: annoying Lucius.

Conaire spoke in a tone. "Because never forget we can be the same way or that one world sometimes overlaps with the other. Now, stop your whining and finish the article."

Lucius looked Conaire straight in the eye and glared. "If you want to know about some Wall-jumping kid- you read your own damn story."

"I can't read. My kind wasn't taught to read back home."

It took Lucius a few moments to recover from this revelation and Gideon saw he him wincing at his rashness. Then, Lucius flashed a teasing smile. "What? Old Irishmen?"

Conaire smiled at him, but when back to mopping, choosing not to continue the spar. Gideon shook his head, and looked back down. Conaire never liked to talk about his childhood or his old life, with those names on his wrists and the strange Arabic tattoo under his eye being the only indication that he had any life at all before England and Isolde. It had been Lucius to catch on first oddly enough, and only he (probably due to some assumed liberty being the youngest child and therefore allowed to do anything) ever tried to press the issue.

"Why didn't they teach you?" Lucius asked again. "Is it because you're black and we don't know it?"

"You're hiding it good." Gideon muttered.

"Not everyone in America discriminates against color, Lucy." Conaire muttered, his smile disappearing. "In fact, at Hecate all you have to do is be born a…"

"Be born a what?" Gideon asked softly, forgetting his rag. His Uncle's past was more intriguing then polishing any day.

Conaire looked up for a moment and sincerely looked as if he was willing to answer the question. But then he stiffened as if he heard something, and turned his head to the off-stage door. Instead of continuing or even telling Lucius to continue reading, Conaire asked him quietly to help Silas bring up Whiskey from downstairs. He turned as if he wanted to speak to Gideon but the door opened before he could speak and two guests appeared.

One looked much younger then the other, only about 15 years old but with a steely darkness to him that turned the room sour. Gideon noticed that while the teenager looked cruel, the taller one had this sort of doleful expression to his face. The younger wore dark maroon robes and jewelry over his frail hands and around his slender neck, to bring attention to his milk white eyes and cold, menacing stare. His hair was cut short and precise around his face, and there was small stubble just teasing his chin. The robes he wore were dark and fine. The other was taller, looked older and was more pleasing to the eye. He wore his black hair long and in shag, over his shoulders, and a thick olive-brown coat that fell mid-calf. Gideon recognized it right off as a Russian military coat from their Air Force. Underneath it, the man wore a dull pink t-shirt with a Dove and olive branch and torn jeans with black jack-boots.

"Dia duit" Conaire called, reaching out his hand and presenting his best smile. "I trust the talks went well?"

"They are proceeding. Your Lord Voldemort is very cooperative when he wishes to be." The taller one said, calmly with a nod. It took a beat for a smile to blossom before the man spoke again. "But don't speak that god-awful language to me again."

"It's the language of your people."

"I'm a member of the British Empire."

"And you're still an Irishman, whether you like it or not." Conaire said, as a smile began to creep unto his features. "Will you stay for a drink, Isaiah?" Conaire turned to acknowledge the other. He made a motion to bow. "I would be honored, Master Vampire."

Gideon arched a brow, and put the rag under the bar to fold his arms and get ready to watch the show. The Vampires were far more interesting then polishing after all, and the way his Uncle was acting was curious.

The boy was staring at the doorway Lucius had disappeared too. "I am rather thirsty, Creature."

"That, I'm afraid, you're not allowed to." Conaire said easily. "But I do have Ymodi, an excellent year…"

"Do you really plan to stop me if I attempt to take it?" The boy asked, with an ice to his voice. "I am tempted to try now, I hear Creature blood can be quite exhilarating."

"Not nearly as exhilarating as our fighting skills." Said a bold voice from the stage door. Gideon and Conaire both looked towards the entryway, where Claudia Moon was standing, arms folded her chest and waited for the response. Gideon had always thought she looked formidable but in the gray uniform of Hecate Compound, coupled with the steel of her thinly veiled threat, Gideon was downright frightened.

There were two men behind her who had come to watch the show, one Gideon knew as Elisha Astor, and this surprised him. Elisha was the head of a prominent Welsh werewolf estate, and chief rival to Moon Manor. But, for his part, Elisha seemed more willing to back the wife of his rival in a fight with his kind's mortal enemies then pay homage to the subtle nuances of the money-status games. Another man, one Gideon had never seen before was watching the display interested but seemingly unprovoked into action. This man met Gideon's eyes briefly before smiling and readjusting his cane to allow him to stand better.

Isaiah was watching the Werewolf first, before glancing to the afternoon sun outside. Conaire, who had also watched with great interest, swallowed and stepped between Claudia and the Vampires. He met Isaiah gaze for a moment, cueing the Vampire to speak presently Isaiah put one hand on his shoulder. "We should be going, Daniel." He told him shortly. "There the are matters to attend to before our next visit…" He met Conaire's eyes with a warm smile. "Perhaps next time, friend."

Conaire nodded. "I look forward to it. Blasted Ulsterman."

"I will take my leave of you as well." Elisha called as he jumped from the stage to walk to the main entrance and into the sunlight. The Vampires returned to the stage door and the man with the cane, who held out his hands and clapped Daniel on the back like an old friend.

"At your leisure, Lord Voldemort requests your presence. " The caned man said before disappearing again.

"Look how they have you at their beck and call." Claudia Moon said thoughtfully, and smiled wryly. "I never would have had you pegged to remain Companion, Kade."

"I believe in what Ridd…" Conaire paused and corrected himself. "…what Lord Voldemort believes in."

"No you don't." Claudia countered as she tapped him on his cheek. "But I think you're dying to believe in something again."

"Gideon, pour me a Scotch." Conaire said suddenly, addressing Gideon and making him jump. "Want something, Madam?"

Gideon knew right off that Conaire had tried to use this to change the subject but Moon would not be stirred. Instead she shook her head, laughing to herself and glancing at the stage door again. "Your Master promises a great many things, Kade. Can he deliver?"

"I hope so."

"Is that why you cling to him so?" Her voice grew quieter. "You could return to Hecate, to us. You don't know what's happening over there. Rio has made us new again, proud. We no longer hide in shadow and in fear. She'll lead into revolution. Nothing will be the same anymore. The world is changing, and our time has come…The Angels will make war."

"I've had my fill of Angels, Claudia." He returned. "I'd rather be human then Angel."

"Even with all their flaws and faults?"

"Especially because of their flaws and faults." Conaire whispered with a sad smile. He inhaled, to compose himself and walked to the bar. "Will you stay for a drink?" She looked disappointed and stared at him in disgust before walking out. Conaire bowed his head for a long time, his body slightly shaking as the man tried to contained tears that would not be mastered.

"Are you going to tell me now?" Lucius asked as he returned from the storeroom with Silas trailing behind him. Both were carrying cases of different liquors that they proceeded to stock the bar with. Gideon, now reminded of his chore, began to polish again. Deciding that his Uncle was unwilling or unable to contribute, he turned and gave Silas his most fearsome glare.

"Have you finished Madam Wyvern's summer assignments?" Gideon asked, and feeling a slight pang as he spoke her name. Having graduated from Hogwarts last year, he would no longer have the same conformity or security that Hogwarts and the Illuminatti had afforded him. Instead, he was going to Hecate Compound, to study and become an Auror and a future that promised the quickest method of acclaim and achievement.

But one that also had mixed results: unless you were an established "military" family like Moon or Snape, going into law enforcement was something black sheep or second or third sons did to support themselves. It was certainty not the fate a first-born son of the Illuminatti was expected to have. Which actually made it more appealing to Gideon.

"I'll do the week before school starts." Silas said, smiling. "Like everybody does."

"You'll never make Prefect."

"I'm not going for it." The second year rejoined. Then he smiled. "You're just jealous I have a life outside of my homework."

Gideon reached over, and swatted Silas head, and dodged the punch Silas sent towards him. He took another swing then threw himself into Silas. He felt Conaire pull him off a moment later.

"You two never quit, do you?" Conaire asked, as he studied Gideon, and then Silas. "Behave both of you, fight on your own time. Not when I'm paying you. Silas, finish sweeping. Gideon, back to this bar and Lucy…"

"I'm reading! I'm reading!" Lucius called as he walked back to his newspaper. "Don't get mad at me because dumb and dumber are at it." He had to duck as Silas took a swing at him.

Conaire laughed, and reached over, tickling Silas' cheek playfully. "Please behave, darling boy."

"Yes Uncle." Silas said in his mock-sincere voice that made Gideon roll his eyes in disgust. Conaire smiled and bowed lightly as he left the room, like he always did, and walked into the actor's lounge. Silas frowned and crept closer, touching the door and recoiling as the Charms placed over the door scared him off. "What do you think Riddle talks about in there?"

"You missed the Werewolves and Vampires." Lucius chirped, flipping through the book. He looked up with a wicked grin. "And Claudia."

"Aha," Silas countered, with similar smile. "Villains of the world." He gave Gideon a taunting look as he began to sweep. "I bet you were just itching to do away with all of them, weren't you Navy?"

"Behave." Gideon warned from his perch. "It wasn't that kind of meeting."

"Sure it wasn't." Silas rolled eyes, and looked down. "Voldemort is just bringing the biggest names in the underworld here…to talk."

"Claudia is hardly a villain."

"But she's a Kaga." Silas said, knowingly. "So is Conaire. They're mercenaries, fighters-for-hire. They are honor bound to do whatever their boss asks of them."

"And how do you know this?"

"Severus told me. He said that Hecate had them everywhere, working like slaves."

Gideon looked up, frowning. Claudia's words came back to him, as he began to fix together the images in his head. Conaire's silence made sense if you believed he had been a slave before he came to England. It would explain that incident at Kaiser's funeral those years ago, and the hundreds of other incidents that came after them. But in the back of Gideon's mind, he rejected the idea. Hecate Compound would never employ the use of slaves. They were a community of Aurors and their support staff who monitored the world stage for possible threats against the general welfare. They were all heroes.

"Severus was five last time he stepped foot in the Compound." Gideon began, cursing himself for talking bad about Snape but choosing that was easier then acknowledging that may be he was right. "A lot has changed."

"People like Aurors don't change, Gid." Silas said, coldly. "They just learn to hide things better."

"I'm going out boys." Conaire's voice interrupted them as he reappeared. He was rolling down his sleeves over his wrists and buttoning them to make himself appear dignified. He tugged on his suit jacket- a beaten olive that matched his pants- and jumped off the stage. "Go on and head home. I'll see you later tonight."

"Where are you going?" Silas asked. Of all of them, he was closest to Conaire and sometimes displayed this childish need to know where he was to be all at times.

The older man turned every so slightly, to barely catch Silas's form out of the corner of his eye. He had a smile that could put the Cheshire cat to shame and eyes that twinkled with uncharacteristic mirth. He put one finger to his lips as he strolled out, "Sore wa himitsu desu."

"I hate when he does that."

Gideon smirked and threw his rag at Silas. "That's why he does it. Come on, let's go home. There's nothing that will happen of interest."

Gideon trailed behind his brothers as they filed out, to stare at the wonders of the Looking Glass before shaking his head quietly to Lucius' statement. He knew even then, somewhere in his bones, that this place would unleash something that had been brewing in one form or another for a long time. He knew from the way Claudia and Conaire had talked, from the way the Vampire had warned them and the way the word "revolution" had been thrown about. There was a mood in the air of preparation and change. Voldemort was planning something, but what he didn't know and History had taught him that when powerful people gathered together in Beer Halls or hidden away buildings with such tightly coiled passions like the people he had seen tonight; thoughts rarely remained in that form, turning instead into talk and talk becoming philosophies that tried to change the world.

Or made it bleed.


	6. Reason in the Rhyme

**Chapter Five: Reason in the Rhyme**

_Dear Silas,_

_You're always complaining that I never write so I decided this would be as good a time as any to write you about the current state in which I find myself. Boot Camp wasn't as bad as I thought it would be but it's by no means anything I would ever want you or Lucy to go through. It's demeaning, harsh and hectic. That said it's the best fun I've ever had outside of the Quidditch pitch. It's weird Silly, for the first time in my life I'm happy. There's nothing that I wake up afraid of, and for the first time I feel like I'm doing something. I feel like I'm worth all the acclaim and honor I got back home. I'm doing something to earn. I can't explain it. I don't know if it even makes sense to you, but I'm happy. I'm doing something that makes me happy._

_Speaking of, I haven't boasted to you about my assignment yet, have I? I'm a Grunt, which is American slang for a regular soldier. Here at Hecate, there's a clear caste system that rivals Hogwarts any day and don't let Snape tell you otherwise. On top, there's the Priss; the in-Compound Aurors who work in places like Intelligence/Interrogation, Dark Arts and Cults, Troop Placements. They're the fancy pants that prance around in navy colored robes and act all big and bad. It's them who send us out; we're the field men. Think of us as infantry, the expendable ones (don't tell Lucius I said that. He gets scared too easy.) There's the Civilian workers too, which fit somewhere between the Priss and the Grunts. Civies are the ones like Clara, who aren't Aurors but work at the Compound. _

_And I know writing this probably isn't helping me defend my post in your eyes. I know what mother says about me. Conaire wrote last week saying she's calling me a shameful son, and prodigal child. She disapproves of me but since when has that been new? How's dad? Con says he's been getting sicker. Since I'm not there, you're going to have to make sure he sees a Healer, Sil. You know how mom is. She won't help him. I'm worried, kid and you're the only one there that I can trust to watch after him. Please do this for me. _

_Clara says Hi and is currently looking over my shoulder demanding that I put that in. You remember, Clare right? She's the Ravenclaw who works in Runes. She says she'll forgive me for being a snake but I have to take her to dinner. I've taken her out many times but she says it's not enough. I swear, make sure you never have to get forgiveness from a woman. They'll make you work for it…_

_Give me a second, Sil. I have to go check on something. _

_Sorry, I started writing this letter in the morning but had to put it down to quell a disturbance. It's evening now and I wish you could see it. Mainly during Halloween, the Compound gets all big and rowdy come Halloween. They celebrate some Mexican holiday about the Dead. Anyways, Hecate looks great right now. There's horizon for days and the city that sparkles like a bag of gold someone forgot about in the desert, at least that's what Benny calls it. Benny Laud's my commander, he's Scots-Irish but we don't hold that against him. _

_Well, I know you're probably wondering where I left to although I'm curious to know how on earth you would know if I really left or if I just wrote that to keep you guessing. Heh. Sorry, there's my attempt at a stupid joke. Don't expect any more. _

_Truth is, I had to break up a meeting. I was stationed in Geneva when Hecate called us back. She's calling all her Grunts back because of Betonie and Rio. Right, I know you're wondering what the hell I'm talking about, and I don't know how much I can write you so let me just write and have the Owl worry about what to censor. Remember what you said about Conaire? About he was a type of slave here at the Compound? Well, you're half-right. The Kaga are this race of super humans but Sil, they're not human at all. They don't feel emotions like we do, have names or keep track of birthdays or even know right from wrong. Their ruling class chooses how they mate and breed. They go into heat like cats and when the kids are born they give them up to be raised in small groups. They're considered adults at age ten and go into service at that age and from birth to death, their leader, a person by the title of Auberon Fay dictates every part of their life. Their service is the most important part of their life too. Laud says they can't live without a cause to serve and that their minds aren't developed enough or something to function on like Werewolves or Veela. They need Hecate and we use them. It's a symbiotic relationship. _

_But like all races, there's the rabid specimen. There's one Kaga here called Rio, the one Claudia told Con about, who has been inciting the others to riot. She calls them Angels and claiming they have some sort of heavenly right to reject Hecate if we've lost our way. At first, no one paid attention to her, but then the Kaga started to flock to her in droves. She gave them pride. Now she's using words like war and revolution and everyone's nervous. But no worries. Rio's the reason we've been called back, and I have never lost a battle. I won't now. _

_Besides, Laud doesn't think we're in any trouble. We have Betonie on our side and that's something. He's the Auberon Fay, the political leader of the Kaga. It's kind of hard to describe it, just think of it this way. Auberon Fay is just the title they use for their King and their Prince is called Robin Goodfellow. It's all modeled after Fairy Tales because the Kaga use to interact with Muggles and were originally thought to be Fairy. Just think, all those stories about Puck, and Jenny Greenteeth were a ruse. _

_Kick Conaire next time you see him for telling us all that junk. I have to go, Sil. Kiss the parents and Lucius for me and send my love to everyone back home. I miss you guys a lot and after this Rio thing blows over, I'll be able to visit. Lots of love, and kick the Pussies' butts on the Quidditch pitch for me. _

_Your brother,_

_Gideon Draco Malfoy_

__

__

Gideon sniffed and read over the letter in his lap. Oddly enough, he had chosen the Gray Library as the place where he could sit down and write in relative peace and quiet. The Library was in the center of the Gray Wing, the home of the Kaga and in these tense times every Auror that came into this room was watched warily from the corners of eyes and over the rims of books. Noting this, Gideon wondered briefly if he should have included all of the history about Kaga but decided again that there was no harm in words. Besides, if he was to die, he wanted Silas to understand what he had died for.

Gideon sure didn't.

This was al political and he knew it and hated this presence "crisis" for it. Rio Hecate was preaching reform and change for the Kaga where no change was needed and the powers that be at Hecate disliked it. What was worst, Rio had a formidable following within the Kaga: including Betonie's seven-year-old successor Aswin Hecate. That's what all the bother was. Aswin was popular and well loved among the Kaga, and the soon to be Boy King was absolutely smitten by Rio. This worried the top brass Aurors, most especially Victory Hawke and Marlowe Stallens who feared that Aswin's claim to power would also be Rio's.

So here Gideon was, waiting for Betonie to die to make sure a war didn't start at Hecate. He grunted angrily at the way his superiors were jumping at shadows but knew better then to comment on it. All he had to do was fight when they said fight. It was not his duty to question orders.

A flicker of color caught the corner of his eye, making Gideon look up, breaking his musing. The Compound's divisions were color-coded, to make it easier for identification; light blue for the Healers, navy blue for Aurors, gray for the Kaga, dark orange for the Potion Masters and so on and while most of Hecate Compound was open to all, the Gray Library was closed to all civilian branches. This made the bright red robe, a Seer's robe; stand out among the gray and blue like streak of lightening in a black sky.

Gideon rose, and folded the letter to put in his pocket as he walked towards the Seer. He had only the vaguest desire to engage this Seer, figuring it was some novice that he meant to scare and then release on his way.

But all of Gideon's intentions blew away when the Seer turned and Gideon saw his face. Gideon had expected the Seer to turn before he called out, but he had not predicted the face that now met his, nor the cool blue eyes that met his own olive with fierce resolve and innate dignity.

Sydney Van Ness turned, his face older now and grimmer then it had been that night at Kaiser's. He looked displaced in the red robes, also bored and his eyes held only death. When he spoke, the voice was tired and impassive. He paused only for a moment while he spoke, to glace Gideon's cuff and read his rank. "And how may I be of service, Apprentice?"

"Patrick?" Gideon whispered uncertain. "You're Patrick Ness."

Sydney arched a brow but looked unhappy at being called that name and he glanced down to stare at the book he held, flipping it open to some random page to break eye contact. "I haven't been called that in years."

"You're Kaiser's protégé!"

"Another title I have not worn in some time." He said idly.

"I knew Kaiser, I'm…"

"Gideon Malfoy, yes I know." Sydney looked back up. "Or Colin Mallory, according to your file. You were the boy who hero-worshipped Kaiser."

"What are you doing in Seer red?"

"The Van Ness family is famous for having the Sight."

"The Van Ness women, yes. But not the men and besides, you were an Auror, under Kaiser! What are you doing?"

"I stopped being an Auror when the Snape family died." Sydney said, slowly and although he didn't mean to, with great pain. "As for my family, you're right. As far as I can tell I'm the first male to be born with the Sight in my family for a long time."

"But you don't belong…"

"While for a short time I followed my father's family and became an Auror," He continued, turning the page of his book. "I have come to my senses since then and have taken my place where I belong."

"You belong in uniform."

"I am in uniform."

"You're in the wrong one."

"And how do you presume to know that?" Sydney countered.

Gideon could tell he was getting on the Seer's nerves but he pressed anyways. He was shocked and angered that Sydney had abandoned the place Caesar himself had left for him. He wanted to understand why. "Because you're Caesar's legacy…"

"Caesar." Sydney spat the name out like a curse. He sidestepped Gideon and moved towards the nearest exit only to stop and turn back to face Gideon. "Do you want to know Caesar's legacy?"

"Yes."

"All he left us was death. Kaiser died before his time." Sydney hissed. "And with him, everything that was noble and worthy about Hecate. We were foolish to think we could change that."

"Change what?"

"What was coming. Let me tell you something, Navy. Kaiser saw Hecate for what it was, a dying hero. An outdated champion and he thought foolishly that because he was Caesar, he could change the world single-handedly. He thought that because he was Snape, he could change what was to happen. But he couldn't and he wasn't meant to and l saw that. I saw in my visions and dreams and on his face every time I looked at Kaiser. I knew he would fail but said nothing because like a fool I believed that he could change it. Because he was Caesar."

"He wasn't trying to change the world." Gideon countered. "He was just fighting for what he could…"

"You English." Sydney laughed scornfully. He smiled bitterly. "It must be something in the water over there. You think words like honor and duty and mission are worth something. You all think you can stare death in the face and deny it exists. But you're wrong. You can't change what's to happen. You can't save those marked to die. I see what is and what is to happen and know this…and I could tell you, like I told him but it would do no good."

Gideon stepped forward, meeting his eyes determinedly. He suddenly felt very young under Sydney's piercing glare but spoke anyways. "You act like you've realize some great truth but all you've done is give up."

Sydney's eyes flashed with anger but he didn't react. Instead, he shook his head and addressed Gideon as he would have a child. "You idealistic fool." He called him. "You're not going to change the world or fight the Devil. You're just going to die like Kaiser did. Torn and alone, following misinformation and some misguided dream that maybe, if you fight a little longer, or push a little harder, you can make the world a better place. Let me tell you something. Death will come regardless of your efforts or exploits."

Gideon trembled from Sydney's words but at the same time longed to counter them. He wanted to believe they were false and wanted to say such to him. He wanted to speak as Kaiser would have (and he knew Kaiser would have just the counter) but could not. He was still too young, and too unsure that his vast dreams and ambitions of honor and valor could realized and made into something beyond dreams.

He looked down at the letter in his hand and inhaled. "It's not about changing the world." He said softly. "It's about finding something worth giving you the desire to try and change it." He looked up, met Sydney's eyes and continued. "It's about finding something not worth dying for but worth living for."

That said, he pushed pass Sydney and walked to the exit to Owlery, to send his letter to Silas. He heard Sydney call out to him.

"And what do you live for, Apprentice?"

Gideon paused short of pushing open the library doors. He thought for a moment about the question. "I don't know." He answered truthfully and tightened the grip on his letter. "But I'll let you know when I do."


	7. The Aswin Incident

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter has taken forever to be written but it has gone through at least three re-writes that may be posted up on my on-line journal one day. I am proud of this chapter and hope you will enjoy it. Let's see the Stallens belong at least in part to Amissa, my lovely long-suffering muse. How she can put up with my endless ramble, rewrites and musings, I'll never know but she's a saint for it. She also owns the Moon family. Thanks to Aku Maru and Saerry for helping me with this chapter. Read and review!

**Chapter Six: The Aswin Incident**

"Mallory, get your ass up!"

Gideon awoke with a start as he felt the covers ripped from him and someone push him out of bed. His training took over for a few moments, as he grabbed his wands and put them in their respective places: one on the inside of his coat, and the other resting on his hip. He pulled on his black boots and slide into his jacket, throwing a hand through his hair and staring blearily at the woman who had awaken him.

It was Art Stallens in full combat gear with her thick blond hair whipping around her like a snake and a look of grim bewilderment clouding her otherwise attractive features. She glared down at him with all the power and grit being both a Hecate royal and a Grunt could produce before moving to the door. Gideon followed, still uncertain of himself and trying for the most part to ignore the fact his entire squad had been alerted.

"Rex, Elwood," Stallens began ordering. "I want you to go down to Divination, and Charms and start pulling the Creatures. Stoker, Rowlings, take Transfiguration, and the Infirmary. You're to round up any Kaga and take them to the Gray Library for round up. Our orders are to contain the Kaga until we can get a better idea of what's going on here."

For a moment the four other Grunts stared at her blankly.

"You have your orders." Art snapped. "Move out! Mallory's with me."

Gideon turned the corner and bit his lip, unwilling to question Art when she was in such a mood but the distress on his comrade's face was enough to goad his curiosity on. He doubled-timed his steps to fall into pace beside her before speaking. "And what is _our_ mission?"

"They killed Marlowe, Gid." She said instead and now Gideon could see tears welling up in Art's dark eyes. "They just killed him like that!"

It took a moment for this to collect in Gideon's mind and he wanted to stop and digest this. Marlowe Stallens. Dead. It seemed impossible. Marlowe was one of the most well loved Aurors in Hecate, Art's grandfather. A kind man, Marlowe was the type of person that never forgot a birthday, anniversary or other occasion his friends cared to remember. He was the kind of man that people wanted to imitate, even if somewhat harsh to his inferiors.

_Stallens pushed the old man fiercely, depriving him of his cane and causing the man to fall backwards. The sight of the old man hitting the ground made the civilians in the room jump and squirm but the Hecate personnel didn't seem to notice. A few of the Auror were smiling, while the others lightly applauded. Malachi had turned away and reached over the bar to pick out a bottle to make a drink, completely ignoring the scene; he__ had taken off his coat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt revealing a small crooked string of numbers that were tattooed on the inside of his left forearm.___

_The sharp yell from the ballroom's doorway jerked Gideon's attention back to the scene. Stallens had the man's cane raised over his head as if he had meant to strike him with it, before his uncle Conaire had come to the rescue, following the example of the man Conaire had been talking to. _

"Who…who killed him?" Gideon asked after a moment. "How…"

"Do you even need to ask?" Art demanded. "Rio did! That Kaga bitch stormed into his office early this morning, her and Nance probably…" She trailed off after naming Marlowe's Kaga Companion. Companions were those sent to protect and aid their Human Charge like a Guardian Angel. "Hawke found Nance and Marlowe dead."

"Rio killed them both?" Gideon pressed, trying desperately to avoid a truth that was tugging at the corner of his mind. If Rio was responsible for the death of an Auror, Hecate would be shaken. Rio was an uncrowned Queen of the Kaga. As she lead, others would follow…

War…

And right on cue, Claudia's words came back to haunt him.

_"Rio has made us new again, proud. We no longer hide in shadow and in fear. She'll lead into revolution. Nothing will be the same anymore. The world is changing, and our time has come…The Angels will make war."_

"There are others." Art said grimly. "We don't know how many, but there's others. We have Kaga disappearing from everywhere, bases all over the world…and Merlin knows how many Aurors they're killing before they run. The cowards!"

The Angels were rebelling. There was War in Heaven…

Like Claudia said.

"Who else?" Gideon demanded, his thoughts traveling to Claudia and Tristian, to their daughter. Fear took over, as his hands fell to his wands despite the fact he had no clear idea of what the monster he was about to slay looked like. "Any civilians injured? The Runes…"

Art made a disgusted sign. "You mean the Moon? As soon as Tristian heard about Marlowe Tristian took Claudia back to their Manor." A cold, vicious smile overtook Art's features. "But no worries. We'll get her soon enough."

Gideon made a note and decided it was best to keep silent from now on. He was lost, confused, and this would be as good a time as any to revert to silence and study the circumstances.

From what he saw, this "War" was just as confusing to the rest of Hecate Compound as it was to him. As he followed Art down one corridor and to another, he focused his attention on his surroundings. All around him there was tension in the air, panic. Civilians ran around in their colored-robes as the Aurors swept through Wing after Wing, snatching away the Kaga from their workstations and posts. He could hear some resisting verbally, as confused as their human counterparts as to what would was happening.

As if the Kaga didn't know they had just started a rebellion.

Something caught Gideon's eye and made him stop.

Two Aurors emerged from the Potions Wing, pulling a Kaga Companion with them as they tumbled into the main hall. The Kaga was giant compared to them both, and by far stronger. It was obvious in the way the Kaga swung his thick tree trunk arms forward to rip them from the Aurors. One of them pulled a wand and aimed at him.

"Give me reason." The Auror hissed. "Please!"

Gideon recognized this Auror.

_"What do you know of my kind, Creator?" The man asked quietly, but his face was beginning to tighten around the eyes and his voice gradually became steely. "I am nothing to then the tattooed number and a tool for you."_

_"You are nothing to me then an enslaved beast that has its purposes." The second Auror hissed angrily. The first one reared up. "Remember your place. Kaiser might had treated you like an equal but you're still an animal." _

_The man's head never moved but Gideon saw his eyes scan the room, before forcing down his head. "Forgive me, sir." He whispered. "Allow me to attend to my Master one last time." There was a long beat. "Please."_

_"Get out of here, Creature!"_

The other Auror from Kaiser's funeral, the one Severus had called Ward. The one who had promised revenge and now seemed ready to take it.

The Kaga reared up, and stared at the wand evenly. Even now, Gideon knew this Creature could rush Wade and take his weapon. Gideon couldn't understand why the Kaga hesitated.

_"This isn't over." _

The hate in Ward's eyes was thick and made his green eyes glittered like sharpened diamonds. But there was nothing in the Kaga's eyes that mirrored it in any respect. The Creature was instead staring down Ward's hate before shifting in his place uncomfortably. He seemed to exhale a prayer before speaking.

"Honorable sir…" The Kaga began softly, reaching his hands out slowly to show his goodwill. "I will not leave my Charge. My Master is weak, fragile…"

Gideon knew this was true. This Companion belonged to the Potions' Chair, an old sagely man that had none of Marlowe's polishing but every bit the love and compassion that made people gravitate towards him. If Marlowe was loved, the Potions Master was cherished. And judging by this Creature's actions, this devotion was not excluded to the Kaga.

"Who will protect him if not me?" The Creature continued in his earnest plea.

But Ward would have none of it. "Save your tricks, monster!"

"Fox?"

The old Potioner's voice rang against the white walls as he emerged from the office. His whole withered body shook and despite Ward's wand, the Kaga stepped forward to catch the Master as he stumbled. Gideon was shocked to see such gentleness coming from such a giant. But Fox was gentle with the old man, and moved in unison with him as if they had been together enough years to share in their hair turning gray.

"Fox, go with him." The old man whispered.

Fox seemed distressed by this but not because of fear. Again, Gideon seemed to understand that if he had wanted to, Fox could have overpowered Ward and his partner without so much as a second thought.

Could it be the Creature sincerely cared for his Charge?

_"Your kind does not love."_

"And you, Master?" Fox asked. "What will become of you?"

The man reached up and touched Fox's cheek. "I will wait for my son to return to me and you will return to me. You will be safe, I promise."  
Gideon watched as Fox laughed, entertained with the idea that his weak Charge would feel the need to comfort him: an Angel. But after the smile had passed from Fox's lips, the Creature eased his Master into the arms of Ward's partner before bowing his head in submission to Ward. Ward countered by grabbing him roughly and throwing him towards the Gray Library.

Inhaling, Gideon thought back to the funeral. Marlowe and Ward were hardly gentlemen then, while the Kaga; like Kaiser's Alexi, and this one Fox, seemed to be nothing but submissive and respectful.

And he began to wonder how exactly where the Angels rebelling?

What he found when he caught up with Art didn't help appease this either.

Despite the pure horror and ugliest of the situation, Gideon couldn't help but feeling shocked at how insignificant Aswin Hecate looked.

Kaga were considered adults at age ten, and at seven; Gideon thought Aswin would be stronger, healthier then he appeared. He had pictured some ruddy lad, taller then his mates and fuller with a presence that captivated the room and made all those around him turn and take notice.

Instead, Aswin just seemed innocent, and almost weak in this innocence.

He reminded Gideon of the Elysian Fields, an awe-inspiring crystal cabinet that hid dust and broken pieces the owner hoped could not be seen behind the wonders of it's outward beauty. Aswin seemed poised and put together just like the Fields, a thing of beauty, which relied on it's grace to take away from the fact there was nothing underneath.

He was like a origami creation. Beautiful, elegant, but very, very fragile.

And like a discarded paper creature, he rested in death torn and stripped of his grace.

Gideon felt sick at just the sight of innocence, destroyed and found himself wondering what Aswin's last thoughts must have been.

As the nightmares ran though Gideon's mind, he took a step back and brought himself back to the moment, to the reality of the situation.

He was in the office of Master of Arms Tobias Helens and he was only one of a handful

of people who milled about the small crime scene in mute horror.

At the desk, as if she were ignorant of the two people who laid dead and naked in front of her, sat Victoria "Victory" Hawke. Hawke's stern face gave no sign to her thoughts or her emotions as she pushed a curl of gray hair away from her eyes and back behind her ear. Beside her, shuffling through the desk drawers, was her son Aiden "Phoenix" Hawke but he too wasn't speaking. They seemed too engrossed with Helens' files to speak, as if those papers could give any insight into what happened.

But Gideon knew. He had only to look at the scene and allow his mind- cultured and twisted by all those secret poisonous whispers his mother and her harpies had spoken over the years- work and wage what had happened. He thought idly how he never would have guessed his breeding to come in useful this way.

Aswin's body had been found slumped against the desk. The Prince's robes had been torn and his face (though redden and bruised) had been frozen in terror. There was blood under the boy's fingernails, signs of a struggle. There was a thick ring of purple bruising around Aswin's small neck and darker marks the size and shape of fingers.

Over the desk was Tobias Helens, a known pedophile. Helens was a great Auror, one of the best, if not the best and it was because of this talent, his little weakness was overlook. After all, he never touched human children, and because of the Kaga's views on age, it's not like he was really injuring any Kaga children. And also, it's not like the Creatures were here for any other reason then to serve the Humans in whatever purpose a human deemed fit.

That made it all better, right?

Apparently Rio Hecate hadn't thought so.

Gideon turned and saw Peru Arsan, a Kaga from a different base, sitting in a chair while Art Stallens and someone from Interrogations grilled him. Peru, Tobias' Companion, seemed perfectly unfazed by his Master's death. In fact, he seemed almost pleased with it. He sat calmly in his chair and answered the Aurors questions; he had no reason to lie.

Justice has been served, he said.

He had seen Tobias lure Aswin into his office. He heard the scuffle, and realized too late what had happened. Peru was about to go alert Auberon Fay about this but Tobias had stopped, sent him to fetch Marlowe instead. Marlowe returned and together a plan was formed. They would claim it was an accident.

Nance and Peru were horrified. But while Nance could not find the guts to disobey his Master, Peru could. He went for Rio as soon as Marlowe and Nance disappeared to find others to help in this deception.

Then things turned ugly. Rio had come unto the scene and enraged had beaten Tobias to death while Peru watched. Rio then turned on Marlowe for daring to come to Tobias' rescue. Nance had tried to defend his Charge, but both Peru and Rio overtook them. Others followed, (Peru claimed two: Ray Roth, and Mack Silk) and their Companions died with them. Then, they're bloody deed finished, Peru let Rio escape. Four other Kaga aided but he would give no names.

Gideon could tell Art didn't believe Peru about Nance and the others. It was true Silk and Roth's Companions had been found dead with their Masters but because of either hatred, or just the need to paint all of them evil, Art refused to believe any Kaga had died for their Charge. He walked forward, reaching out and feeling Art tense to his touch and then ease into his embrace. He only idly thought of Clare and what his beloved would say at the sight but the guilt dissipated as quickly as it had come. This was not some casual woman he was holding. It was Art. They had a history.

Besides, he always went back to Clare at the end.

Art craned her head and looked deep into his eyes, she took only a moment to gaze at his lips before leaning up for a kiss.

"What's happened? Let me through!"

Gideon pushed away from Art at the sound of the old voice. Sydney Van Ness entered with all the seriousness and pomp afforded to man of his breeding and standing at the Compound. He stood now, in his crimson robes, with an air of authority and dedication to him. He pushed his way past the Aurors, and personnel to Hawke. "Report, what do we have?"

Phoenix looked up for a second. "A problem for the Aurors and IA, not the Seers."

"Don't shut me out, Aiden. We've known each other too long for me to be shut out now."

"Let us do our job, Ness. We'll get him back…"

"Amissa just flooed me in hysterics! She says your boys stormed into the Runes Wing looking for Claudia and scared her half to death…and as soon as I can finally get her to stop screaming, Drake Hollis comes storming into my office saying my Chief's been taken." Gideon's ears perked up at that as he crept closer to the group. Sydney had dropped the act and leaned forward to whisper. "Aiden…there's talk that Rio took Jaron. Can you image what she can do if she…"

"We know." Victory Hawke cut him off. She raised her head and gave him a glare that could freeze water in the middle of the desert. "And that's to be kept under wraps till I say otherwise, understand?"

"It was Seen." He told her. "All of us can sense it. How long do you think it take till the Ovates find out? If he's compromised…if he falls into Shadow…"

"He has his Ovate with him." She assured him but she looked nervous. "That'll buy us some time. Can you get a reading on him?"

"I can't touch his power." Sydney shook his head. Then he glanced over, catching Gideon in his sights for the first time. Something occurred to him. "But I could probably sense Smith."

"Why are you here then?" She asked. "Take a squad and try and scout them out."

"Not a squad." Sydney said, pushing away and already making it to the door. "Rio will see us coming from a mile away. I only need a back-up." He paused for a moment. "Come on, Mallory. You're riding with me."

Gideon looked up, startled. "Wha…what? No, I'm just an Apprentice. A grunt under Laud…I can't…"

"New orders, Grunt." Aiden ordered. He rose and nodded. "You're to aide and assist Van Ness in anyway he needs. Move out and keep in touch."

He swallowed deeply and nodded, mumbling his reply and taking off to follow the Seer. Sydney was already down the hall, already with a form of action brewing in his head. Gideon had to run to catch up with the older man. His mind was swimming with so many questions; Gideon couldn't find a place to begin. He felt stifled suddenly in his uniform and presently he tugged on his collar to give him room to breath.

"Don't worry." He heard Sydney mutter beside him. "Just follow my lead and you'll be fine."

"I'm not afraid."

"You lie terribly."

Gideon swallowed and looked over. "Sir? What's happened?" He didn't know why, but had the distinct impression that Sydney had understood all that transpired today better then anyone else would. The Seer's unique perspective of seeing Hecate both as an Auror and civilian would afford him some wisdom the others couldn't have and he seemed just seasoned enough to understand the horrors and still recoil from them.

Sydney paused and looked at him. They were a few steps away from the Gray Library and as through all of Hecate, the hallway was bathed in sunlight that reflected off the white walls as if the Compound itself glowed. In his early days here, Gideon had thought the place was Heaven. But now, without its gray-clad Angels lurking around, Hecate seemed abandoned and cold. Gideon remained, feeling that way for a long time, waiting for Sydney to answer.

But it was not for the Seer to answer. After a moment, Gideon's head snapped to the direction of the Library. There were a great wail that rose to his ears, admit shouting as something poured from the Library. For a moment, Gideon forgot about Sydney, about his questions and his doubts and followed the noise…

He was not prepared for what he saw.

It would stay him forever, seared into his mind like some dark nightmare. It burst forth; burning like a star in his mind every time he dared called himself righteous and true. It would be his scarlet letter, his mark of shame that would forever take his world and change it. Never again would anything be black and white.

The Kaga were clustered together right outside the Library, with the strongest and the youngest pushed forward. He had always heard, jokingly, that for every Kaga you saw at the Compound there were at least two you didn't and now he saw how true that seemed. There dozens there, possibly hundreds, and they crowded together, forming a circle that three Aurors keep in check.

Ward was in the center of the circle; wand out and a sinister look on his face. Before him on the floor, kneeling with their hands bound behind their backs were six Kaga and among them faces Gideon recognized: the Potion Master's Companion Fox and Kaiser's own Alexi. Of the four remaining, three were women, although one could barely be called that. She looked no older then ten. The only other boy in the group looked seven, possibly younger. He was crying, glancing around the area frighteningly searching for something familiar.

The Kaga forced to watch were crying out, calling encouragements out to him and beseeching the Aurors for mercy. Several male Kaga, primed and hale, were motioning to take his place. Gideon saw a boy, not much older then the child, push past the barrier and run to the kid.

"Eoin!" Alexi shouted suddenly, and the world fell silent. "You have your post to attend to. Return to the others until you are called back."

Eoin's face twisted into an expression of pain and confusion. "No Wise-One." He replied in a broken voice. "Our duty is to preserve life...how can I do that and allow this crime?"

Alexi closed his eyes, inhaling. "Because your Mistress wills it."

Eoin stumbled back from these words, into the arms of a weeping woman. She clung to him to keep him from trying again but Gideon could see the boy would not move again. Eoin had a distant look in his eyes, a cold, disheartening look. "I cannot serve a Will like this…"

"Enough!" Ward said, striding forward. He turned to address the Kaga. "This is what happens to Judas! This is what happens to traitors!"

"These are not traitors…" Gideon murmured to himself, giving words to the Kaga who could only stare mutely as this thing happened. He found himself wondering why weren't they acting. There were only four Aurors, and one Kaga- Alexi himself, as old as he was- could have easily bested them. He found himself wondering why the Kaga were not saving themselves. They had the power…

"Avada Kedreva!"

Gideon stumbled as he saw, for the first time, the Killing Curse in action. Fox's body, strong and able as it was, fell limp under the words: collapsing forward. One of the women followed, then another as one by one Ward walked down the row till all six laid dead. He stood mute for a moment that dragged on for eternity.

He was only vaguely aware of Sydney's hand with it touched his shoulder to pull him away. He followed, mainly because there was nothing else his body could do. He winced from a pain that twisted his stomach into a knot and Gideon was sure he was going to throw up.

"Tell me, Apprentice." He heard Sydney's voice ask. "Is it worth it?"


	8. The Legacy Birthright

Author's Note: Started a new job that is stealing my precious writing time. However, I hope you enjoy this filler chapter, and review. Claudia Moon, and Moon Manor belong to Amissa who also owns my heart and undying devotion. Also, any surprise about Kaiser's little...addiction?  
  
**Chapter Seven: The Legacy Birthright**

Gideon learned more from Sydney in three days then he had during the months at the Academy. The Seer seemed to know more of the matters of men then people twice his age, and occasionally Gideon could see the weight of such knowledge resting in Sydney's eyes. Sydney had shed the crimson robes for Auror blue, a subtle changed that seemed to make all the difference. In Navy blue, Sydney was commanding, compassionate and majestic. Now he was Kaiser's heir and looked every bit the part of it: from the thick commanding presence- to the darkness of his eyes as he bore a terrible secret.

Gideon tugged on his uniform and wondered if all novices felt this way in Sydney's presence. He was trailing a few steps behind Sydney, casting nervous glances at the Seer's head and then looking down to study the floor. Once bored of the pavement, Gideon would repeat the process all over again.

They were in Wales now, traveling deep into the forest to a place Gideon had never been before. Sydney had told him as an afterthought they were going to meet someone familiar, someone who would know where to find Rio and her prisoners. At first, Gideon had thought it would be someone dangerous and exciting, like an underworld boss they would have to 'shake down' but about an hour into this trek, from Sydney's apparent ease, Gideon had determined that this mystery helper was probably nothing more exciting then another Auror.

"If you have any questions for me." Sydney suddenly deadpanned as they walked. "You _can_ ask them. I don't bite."

"I'm fine, sir."

"Just call me Patrick. Or Ness. Caesar called me Nessie, if you feel the need to make up childish monikers."

"What was he like?" Gideon asked the only thing he could really think of. He knew this was probably a sensitive subject for Sydney but the truth was that this Seer was irrevocably linked to Kaiser in Gideon's mind and to better understand one, he needed to know the other. "At work, I mean. He always seemed bigger then life to me. What was it like to work with him on a regular basis?"

The Seer stopped, turned and regarded him. There was a measuring look on his face, but a kind one. Nevertheless, Gideon worried that had overstepped his fragile relationship already. Sydney tilted his head slightly, in thought. "He liked ice cream." He said simply before beginning to walk again. "Sabine was always getting mad at him for leaving empty cartons in his desk drawers or around Akel Dama. He was kind of a slob really, file folders and paperwork everywhere." He glanced over at Gideon with a smirk. "Do you remember coloring with him when he was bored with work? He'd keep these huge collections of crayons in his desk, and when he got stressed, he'd get you guys and Severus into his office and give ya'll his work pile to complete. At Hecate, he'd use to take the crayons into the orphanage. I remember finding him hours later in some room: Caesar himself, the Lord of Hecate, on the floor drawing with kids..."

"I remember that." Gideon smiled at the memories. "If Babbitt wasn't around, he'd let us draw on walls too."

"He wanted such a big family. I use to think that was so crazy too. The way he'd go absolutely nuts over kids." There was a long silence between them, before Sydney spoke again. "I use to color with him too, you know."

Gideon frowned. "Oh?"

"When I was a boy, I was a lot like you. Use to follow Kaiser around like a puppy, just waiting to get his attention and we were one of dozens." Sydney had slowed in his march, cueing to Gideon that they had just about reached their destination. "His soft spot was always families and the harder the lives the families went through, the more Kai wanted to protect them. A lot of people owe their existence to Kaiser's benevolence. Like the one we're coming up to now."

"How so?"

"The Auror we're looking for now, Malachi Smith, has a son he adopted. It was Kaiser who convinced Malachi to take the kid in when he was orphaned." Sydney ducked under a low-lying branch and stepped into a clearing that suddenly blossomed in the moonlight. "And hopefully we can get a direction about where to go next from the son."

"Intelligence isn't giving you anything new I take it."

Sydney made a vague disgruntled sound, "I trust the Moon more then Intelligence."

Gideon turned over to glimpse the house and gasped. The house was typical of England's countryside. Not over-indulgent as Elysian Fields was, or as imposing and palacial like Akel Dama; this home seemed content to appear lovely and unassuming in it's grandure. Gothic masonry curled from the trim as iron work crept over some windows, intermingling with plant life and dark moonlight. The design of the iron struck Gideon as interesting but at first he could not tell the reason. There was a dark pallor over the home, that was true and Gideon had intended to dismiss it as age and the style of home, but as they walked closer Gideon could sense there was something stronger that lurked in the home. Something ancient and powerful that made the ironwork sensible, not as display, but rather protection. But Gideon couldn't tell if the iron bars were meant to keep him out or whatever it held in.

And he wasn't certain, he even wanted to know.

There was a rustle in the woods beside them and low rumbling growl from somewhere deep into the darkness. Gideon tensed and dropped his hand to his wand. Gideon had been so enraptured by the vision; he barely became aware of Sydney's amused grin and blushed from embarrassment. The Seer laughed as he began to walk again, finding the stone path that led to the home. "Don't mind the wolves. They probably won't consider us a threat."

"Probably?"

"Well, there's a first time for everything."

A large wolf suddenly appeared on the flagstones before them, just to prove Sydney's joke had some merit. It leered at Sydney for a long time, then shifted his attention to Gideon and rested his gaze there for a moment. It seemed to be debating the situation and upon deciding that they were safe, turned and began to lead them to the house. Sydney chuckled again. "See? They have such a cooler welcoming committee then I do. All I have is a goat at my ranch."

"And your goat likes to attack your guests." Came a new voice from the entryway.

Gideon jerked his attention from the wolf, to the doorway, surprised to see the figure of Claudia Moon waiting for them. The woman wore a dark gray dress, with her hair interwoven into a tight braid and resting over one shoulder. A thick black ribbon glimmered in the moonlight from the plait, and was the only sign of adornment the woman had. Coming closer, Gideon could see care lines had deepen on Claudia's face, making her appear tired and nervous and nothing like the cool, composed woman she always seemed to be. She ignored Gideon, and addressed Sydney. "Have you come to arrest me?"

"Do I need to?"

"The Nigen seem eager for Kage blood." Claudia whispered. "Who am I to disappoint?" She turned to walk inside and Sydney and Gideon followed. She took them to a quiet parlor, where a low burning candle waited on a table beside an opened decanter. There was glass there that Claudia took up again, and sipped. She apparently had been drinking for some time. She turned her glittering eyes to Sydney. "Tristain and Caleb are in his study. You know the way."

Van Ness drew himself up and exited the room without so much as a word. Gideon stayed behind for two reasons, he had some innate knowledge that whatever would past between Moon, and Van Ness was out of his scope of comprehension, and second, (this was learned from his mother) if one truly sought information and power, go not to the men of influential homes- but to the wives.

"You could have gone with him." Claudia spoke softly, as she sipped her drink again and walked to one of the window. She had assumed Gideon's hesitation came from shyness. And for his part, Gideon would play it that way.

"I had nothing to offer your husband." He said easily, crossing the short distance to Claudia. She turned and tensed as he approached, only to flinch as he took the glass from her hand and watched as he walked to the table to refill the drink. "Besides, you look like you could use some company."

"I have no need of Maho." Gideon offered her the glass, ignoring her statement. It was an invitation for her to share, if she chose to.

And it was his luck that she did. She seemed desperate for it. "Do you know what Maho is?" She didn't wait for a reply. "It's a shorten term for Mahotsukai- Magical humans. The Kage use it, as humans would refer to a Robin as a bird. It's a blanket term that holds no warmth or dislike for the object but merely seeks to label it." She shook her head in disgust. "I don't like that word."

"Then why use it?"

"Because what else can I call you? You humans have such an obsession for naming things yet you take no care in it. You don't understand the power you possess when you name something. That is why you need us. To make sure you don't abuse your power."

Gideon shifted and poured himself a drink. "Is that what Rio told you all?"

"Rio." Claudia whispered tenderly. She muttered something under her breath that sounded faintly Runic but also distinctly different- and old. "Rio never said anything our Ovates wouldn't have said. She just said it so you could hear it." She turned her drunken eyes to Gideon. "We're not human, you know." She told him sternly. "Nor are we some mixed breed cult like you call us. We were once a proud people, as strong and as unique as the Veela or Merpeoples. We had a history, a culture." Her eyes dimmed. "Then the Maho came with their wars. They destroyed us till we were nothing, and were force to become a parasitic race like the Vampires or Werewolves."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you have to know why." Claudia said suddenly. She sound frantic, and sad. "We are dying out. Slowly, and painfully, we are dying out. Rio thought she was going to help us. We wanted to believe her..we were desperate... She said if she could harness the power from the Maho's Avatars, she could somehow..."

Gideon frowned as Claudia's words begun to sink in. He took a step forward, careful not to break the spell of Claudia's musings or rouse the woman into wariness. But she knew. She knew something desperately important and he suspected, she wanted to tell him. "Is that what's happened?" He asked. "Is that what she's doing now? Trying to save you?"

Claudia looked for a moment like she was willing to answer but instead shook her head, resolved in her silence.

"Do you know where she is?" Gideon pressed, taking another step to close the distance between them. "Claudia, I have to know..."

"I cannot tell you." Claudia turned on him, startled. In a moment her disorder became cold and well-seated hate. She narrowed her eyes and stepped back from him. "We are to protect our own. I will not betray mine."

"But she's already betrayed you." Gideon countered. "Claudia, she murdered an Auror, and his Companion...and if that doesn't matter, look what's happening to your people because of her."

"She said she'd help us! She said..."

"She lied."

Claudia looked strikened. She inhaled deeply and muttered something again in her language that sounded like it could have been a prayer. She then turned and nodded slowly. "Alright. I will tell you what you want to know but know this, I will die for this betrayal, me and probably my family as well. Understand that before you ask me again. You'll have to know that, and more importantly, you'll have to live with that."

"With what?"

"With the knowledge that no good deed goes unpunished in this world. Understand that, Auror, and you will save yourself a lot of heartache." She straightened herself up and inhaled. Gideon could see she was preparing herself for her fate, gathering around her all the strength and power a daughter of the Kaga possessed and presented herself now, for what she was: a matriarch of a grand house, and a proud, fearsome creature that bowed to no one.

"Now," She whispered. "What do you ask of me, Human?"


	9. God in His Heaven

Author's Note: All hail the end of part one of this story: Gideon's theme has been wrapped up but by no means think this is the end of his presence in the story. Heck, I'm barely one third of the way through but you probably don't want to hear me whine. You just want to read so- enjoy!

**Chapter Eight: God in His Heaven**

The place Claudia's information had lead them was cramped and humid. Sydney walked the length of the building with one hand bared and pressed against the wall. Even without the Sight, Gideon could feel the evil of the place, and the darkness that seeped trough ever corner to coat the walls. Despite himself, he shivered from fear and wondered how Sydney could take it. Sydney was pale and shaking as he walked through the corridor, eyes shut but sure-footed. The hall gradually became narrower, and dimmer as they walked until finally Sydney's hands found a door.

The door was simple, white and unassuming, but someone had taken yellow chalk, the type children used on sidewalks and scrawled symbols unto the door. Gideon frowned as he strained to see them: they were put in a deliberate pattern he saw, but unfamiliar. There were a few symbols he recognized from Moon Manor's ironwork, or his own studies of the Runes but these glyphs seemed warped, inverted from the ones he had seen before. He wondered if, when they had been cast, had them gleamed and squirmed under the woodwork as the simple Runic charms he had cast had done in school. He wanted to reach over and touch them, to see if they were warm and surging but as he reached out he felt Sydney grab his wrist.

"Don't." Sydney whispered, hoarsely. He looked sick and tired and Gideon didn't want to know if it was the magic or the weariness of the mission that had worked so hard against him. Sydney shut his eyes again, and pulled away, wincing slightly at the visions that came from Gideon's touch. When he opened his eyes again, he looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it. Instead, he turned and looked at the symbols. "Silent Speech." He whispered. "The language of the dead. Someone tried to conjure here."

"Conjure what?" Gideon found himself asking, but the look Sydney gave in reply told him the elder Auror either didn't know, or didn't care to share. Gideon decided such knowledge was something he didn't want to know. "Were they successful?" He asked instead.

"I don't know." Sydney told him sharply. "But get your wand ready just in case."

Gideon swallowed and did as he was told. The Seer looked at him once more to check on him before taking his own deep breath and pushing open the door.

The rank smell of death swelled to meet them. Gideon grimaced and doubled back, forcing air into his lungs as Sydney, older and probably more accustomed to the scent, pushed forward. The room was pitch black but there was a small sound coming from one of the corners as desperate short breaths pierced a quiet mewing.

"Lumnos." Sydney whispered and a wave of light emitted from his wand, throwing light into the dark corners.

They saw the body first. An elderly figure that had once been Jaron was lying on his back, with his face turned aside, eyes shut. The dark brown frock coat he always wore was sprayed under his stout frame and looked almost like wings that had fallen into disarray. His shirt had been torn open and on his chest were craved symbols similar to those on the door. A large circle had been craved and at various points around the circle the symbols had been placed. Using the Runes he knew, Gideon tried to decipher the phrases. He could see summoning spells and binding spells but noticed that these glyphs had burned on the skin as if the body had rejected the enchantment. Gideon squatted beside the body, and reached over it, to bring the face towards him.

"I couldn't wake him." Both Auror jumped, aiming their wands at the corner of the room where the voice had come from.

It was a small girl staring up at them with wide, uncertain eyes. Across her lap, rested Malachi Smith, his head on her lap, and just barely breathing. The Auror was taking long, labored breaths as she stroked his brow, desperate to give him any comfort she could. The girl wore cream color robes although she had stripped down to her shift to use the rest of the robes as bandages. They were packed tight around Malachi's chest, and Gideon knew grimly that whatever rite Rio had tried on Jaron had also been preformed on Smith.

The girl saw their faces drop as realization hit them, uncertain of their intentions; she slipped one arm around Malachi's chest. She was watching them now, warily and when she spoke, her voice shook with authority she was unaccustomed too. "You can't come near."

"What did you do to him?" Sydney demanded.

She gasped but didn't move her grip from around Malachi. "I will not suffer to be spoken too in a such a manner."

"You will suffer it!" Sydney challenged in return. He crossed the short distance from the doorway to her, and aimed his wand at the creature's neck. "You have no longer have authority, priestess."

"Priestess?" Gideon asked. The child before him looked as if she was barely entering her preteens, and even by Kaga standards she was barely an adult. "She's a priestess?"

"She's more then that." Sydney answered coldly, "She's a member of the royal bloodline, related to Aswin and Betonie."

The girl made a disgusted sound. "Humans and their titles. I am no royal." She spat. "I am Ovate, Guardian of the Mysteries and keeper of the Avatars."

"At any rate," Sydney snorted, and smirked at Gideon. "They're the Kaga upper class."

Gideon frowned as he watched Sydney withdraw his weapon. "How can you be sure she's trustworthy?"

"Simple." He turned and studied the girl again. "Ovates aren't trained in warfare and martial arts. She's a non-combative." He squatted down and touched Malachi's cheek, gingerly. "Kaga are simple creatures, and Kaga Ovates aren't capable of this...butchery." He softened his voice slightly and looked at her. "What happened?"

"Jaron had been alerted us to Aswin's death, and he and I were attending the Fay when a Kage came to us. They said Victoria Hawke had need of us. I didn't want to go, but Jaron was set on it...and we were ambushed en route. Rio took us here...and tried her rituals." Her lips began to tremble as she slouched forward, protecting Malachi from Sydney. She spoke finally after a time, but there was no emotion that clouded her voice. Hers was only the soft, dull cadence of someone recounting a story they heard sometime before. "Jaron told me to keep him safe. Nothing else mattered, he said. Jaron said he had to be taken care of, that's all he spoke of." She murmured, and then looking up, met Sydney's eyes fiercely as if by her actions, she could prove she had no other recourse. "Even as Rio killed him...he only spoke of this Auror." She returned her gaze to the man who rested on her lap. "Jaron died for him. He was an Avatar, and he let himself die for this one...creature. Why? Who is this man that my Beloved would die for him?"

Sydney's face softened, touched by the child's lack of understanding. He reached over and moved as if to touch her but thought better of reaching out to comfort someone who was unaccustomed and unwelcoming of such actions. "He's just a man, no wiser or stronger then any other human. His name is Malachi Smith, and he's the Auror in charge of Interrogations and Intelligence." He licked his lips thoughtfully as he turned to gaze on Malachi's face once more. "But he's my Chief. My leader."

The girl looked up then, and without jealous or rebuke she spoke. "Then it is a fair trade in your eyes, is it not? My Master for yours?" The Seer blinked in surprise and then, after a beat he slowly nodded. She favored him with a small, knowing look before releasing Malachi into Sydney's arms.

Gideon was only mildly interested in watching Van Ness as he lifted the aging Auror into his arms and rushed outside to Apparate to Hecate. He glanced around the home for any sign of Rio but knew, vaguely, that the renegade was gone. So instead, he turned to the girl. She was ignoring his presence as she stood and stretched, before turning to stare at the walls and woodwork of her prison in surprise. Her face was resigned even though she had to be frightened. Everyone was. "Aswin is dead?" She asked quietly.

Gideon blinked in surprise at the calmness of her voice. "He is."

"Then hope for my people is lost. Our messiah has betrayed us, and our prince is slain..." She bowed her head, looking away from him. "It will take time before these wounds can be healed."

"What will you do now, Priest?" He heard himself asking.

The girl shook her head to shake bad dreams. "Keep my vow to Jaron." She told him softly. "He asked me to protect Malachi, no matter what. That is my mission in life now."

Gideon frowned. "It won't be the same for your people now." He told her. "You know that. If you were feared before, you'll be hated now...and enslaved. You know that right?"

She made some non-committal movement. "This is of no importance to me. Policy and the status quo are human ideas, and like all human ideas, they're subject to your first law."

"Which is?"

"Change is the only thing certain." She turned, and Gideon found himself staring into her deep gray eyes. "But for a Kage, Change is not so important. It's just the shadow on the wall. It is the pattern that must be followed so everything will happen as it is suppose to."

He frowned. "You don't care what will happen to your people?" He asked.

her eyes dimmed. "What will happen, will happen. It is not for me to approve or disapprove. I am to merely perform my duty." She turned and walked out to follow Sydney. "And, for now, it rests with the Auror Malachi Smith."

Gideon understood that then, like Claudia, this child might appear human but would be insulted if called such. She would have no part of his morality, or justifications, or his desires for something more. She was as blinded by her beliefs as his mother Marjorie was. He got the impression from the girl as she disappeared that perhaps her, in her station in life, had glimpsed something y far deeper and more pragmatic then anything he had faced before. Her voice had carried a kind of resignation that only came with wisdom, and defeat that only came with age. He wondered briefly if his role and hers had been reversed, would he react in such a way. He decided he didn't like the answer.

He didn't like resignation. He understood that now, as he stood alone in a place of death. Defeat, he could handle, and perhaps, he could even acknowledge and accept his course would rarely be justified and worthy, even though it would always be needed. He could blame his Slytherin upbringing, or his arrogance, his selfishness, stubbornness or just plain stupidity but standing there now, he swore to himself, he would never resign himself to orders or the status quo. Perhaps in the end he would not beat the game but he would have one hell of a time trying. If he had too, he would change the game itself, and mold it into his rules. He could do after all. He could do anything.

Gideon felt something happen then, somewhere deep inside, as if he were shedding the skin of his childhood- of Illuminatti indulgence and the sense of ownership, and Snakish affluence, to something other then this. He felt raw and uncertain, but still excited. He understood a moment later what had happened.

He had found his reason.

Sydney was waiting for him outside, a slight smile on his features as if the elder Auror knew what had occurred. Sydney stamped out the cigarette he was smoking and spoke when Gideon had reached earshot. "The girl went with Malachi to Hecate. Hawke has the best medics working on Smith. He's going to be okay. She called Tristain and Amissa as soon as I told her." he motioned to the house, and made a bitter sound. "And then Hawke turned right around and ordered Tristain to report here to find out whatever we can."

"Any news on Rio?"

"Hawke has some other teams chasing down leads." Sydney shrugged. "She was hoping that we would stumble across Rio while searching for Smith and Jaron but from the looks of it, Rio found out we were coming."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because she left survivors, and I know Rio. She's not the kind of person that would leave any loose ends," He shifted and favored Gideon with a dark look. "She's going to come back one day, Gideon. Don't be surprised when she does."

Gideon shivered and decided his voice would not be strong enough to speak so instead, he looked up to the vast canopy of stars above him. They were beginning to pale as the sun began it's slow climb over the horizon to the new day. He smiled softly.

"Yeah," Sydney said beside him. "Feels good, doesn't it?" He looked up to stare into the deep sky as if everything that mattered could be seen in the dull night. "I forgot how much I've missed moments like this: when you're tired beyond words, and all emotion is spent but you're alive, and you've done your duty the best you could. And you know, that in some small way, maybe just maybe what you did made the world a little safer, and everything that was good…you made it a little stronger."

Gideon heard himself before he could stop himself. "What if it doesn't last? Rio's still out there."

Sydney laughed, "Even if she wasn't, there would always be _someone_ out there. The next guy you fight maybe will be stronger then Rio, maybe weaker but it doesn't matter. The whole point is that you fight."

"Because it's our duty."

"No." The elder Auror turned and met Gideon's eyes. In the darkness, there was wisdom and majesty and something more that in his youthfulness, Gideon could not recognize but would always remember. "Because it's right. Never forget that, no matter what." A soft smile crossed his lips. "There's a good reason for you." He whispered, returning his gaze skyward. "Live for the right."

Gideon laughed at the romance behind his words but agreed with them. "I can do that." He snorted, playfully. "That none perish eh?"

"That's right." Sydney rejoined softly.

"Well, what happens now, hero? We've saved the world, and rescued the orphans and old men, what's next?"

"Breakfast."


	10. Prelude of Cruelties

**Author's Note: Extremely short but to be used mainly as plot exposition and proof I am not dead. This is the beginning of Silas Malfoy's part of the story so be warned themes of murder, incest, homosexuality and drug abuse will be alluded too. I intend to keep this tasteful but hopefully sharp and cruel, much as the character is. P.S, apologies it's short but the chapter works for my purposes. Read and review.**

**Chapter Nine: Prelude of Cruelties **

It was a clear, beautiful night that found Silas Malfoy staring at the ceiling in his usual disgruntled fashion. He was spending the weekend at the Looking Glass instead of at Hogwarts. He liked the bar better, and it was a relatively simple thing to steal away during the weekend, when the teachers relaxed their guard and the children resigned themselves to whatever petty pastimes they found to indulge in. Silas was never one for pastimes. He could find no joy in them, nor could he find the patience to pursue something where no immediate benefits could be reaped.

So with no patience or passion, Silas often found himself in a position like this one: well-fed and cared for with still a deep seated hunger that he knew instinctively no youth should have at his age, and no means to stop it. To his credit, Silas knew that this was not normal and tried to remedy it. He played Quidditch at school, courted all the appropriate females, befriended all the moneyed males and even managed to get in just the right amount of mischief to make him admired and watched by the professors. But still he was not pleased. In truth, he found it all so practiced, all so civilized that he should want for nothing and it made him crave desperately for something wild and unimportant.

The girl beside him squirmed in her sleep and Silas- more out of formality then actual ardor- readjusted himself in the bed to allow her to spoon against him. This particular girl had been a welcome change of pace for him and earlier the newness of the situation had motivated him to treat her with even more delicacy and gentleness. He spoke to her in hushed whispers, and mild, clumsy French that made her features blush and eyes sparkle.

Sounds underneath him took Silas' attention away from Narcissa for the moment. His father's voice had broken through the cool air like a whip, making Silas' insides tense up with dread. Silas never liked Karel's presence; his father loomed over him like a Grim and made this polished creature stumble over his words and footing like some pathetic Hufflepuff. Conaire's voice came into earshot for a moment and then retreated just long enough to bait Silas' curiosity. He silked out of bed and, being possessed with some unnatural bout of kindness, turned and adjusted the bed sheets around Narcissa's body so she would not awaken.

She didn't and Silas made his way through the darkened halls of the bar's upper rooms, to the staircase where he squatted just out of sight from his uncle and father.

Conaire Malone was venting; ranting angrily to Karel about some mission that had been foiled. Silas chewed on the inner part of his lip, obsessed with this new image of Conaire. He had never seen his uncle so upset, and angry over anything before in his life and to watch him now sent fear running through Silas' veins and forcing the boy to deal with an emotion he never had experienced before.

From his place at the bar, Silas' father Karel was attempting to lend comfort to his friend and failing at it. This made the air stale and uncomfortable, and although Silas knew he would be better off shying away from the scene but knew he could not. He could blame it on curiosity, or just plain eagerness but both excuses would be in a lie. In truth, Silas was enamored with the excitement that came from the underworld dealings and possibly that in this hiding place Silas might just be able to hear something new.

"We all do things we aren't proud of, Con." Karel was saying amid sips of his milk. Karel had ulcers and this lent itself to the rather unfortunate image of the Malfoy patriarch appearing weak because of his choices of beverages. Silas always despised that about his father; he liked Conaire and his Whiskey. "The important thing is they mean…something."

Conaire looked over, disgusted and stopped himself from speaking. He exhaled after a time, "I'm tired of killing for ideas, brother. They are airy and unformed; they cannot feed the hungry nor clothe the naked, nor provide comfort for those who desperately seek it." He turned away, pained and angry at his torment. "I was once mercy itself. I was once a Kaga Companion; a paragon of compassion and love…and now Voldemort seeks to make me nothing more then a common hit-man."

There was an infinity to Conaire's voice that spoke of terrible wisdom, won at too great a cost. Watching his uncle's pain, something awoke in Silas that he had never before felt: compassion. He longed to understand and alleviate Conaire's pain and more important, he knew he could. It was a childish, certain faith that he and perhaps he alone could make pain flee where Conaire with all his otherworldliness had failed.

He only needed to know the problem.

Providence, it would appear was on his side as well, for Karel had stood and walked to sit beside Conaire and ask. "Why has this one thing troubled you?"

"The family has done nothing wrong."

"Since when was that required in our line of work?" Karel rose and walked slowly to him. "Alphonse will be here for Christmas break and this bloody business will be done and over with and you can go back to clear minds and straight visions."

Conaire snorted slightly, as he leaned against Karel's shoulder. He smiled and patted Conaire's cheek, a motion that warranted another tender response, Conaire kissing the palm of Karel's hand. For a moment, Karel looked as if he wanted to return the sign of affection but forced himself not to, recoiling from Conaire and going quietly to pick up his coat.

Silas felt himself become please with his father's refusal. He didn't like Conaire showing affection to Karel when it should be directed towards him. He bit his lip at this realization, watching his father retreat from the bar.

"You can come out, Silas." Conaire said, although his face never turned from the doorway. "I'll pour you some tea to help you sleep."

Silas grunted as he rose, "How long did you know I was listening?"

"I heard you arrive."

Standing a few steps away from him now, Silas could see his Uncle's shirt was open; revealing a lithe, handsome body devoid of any imperfection. He felt his stomach shift nervously, causing Silas to blush and look down at the table where he sat. He heard his Uncle laugh as he sat across from him.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that." Conaire began easily. His face darkened for a moment. "I didn't mean to come off weak to you."

"Why do you care what I think?"

A small smile blossomed on his face. "Because you are my Silas. I want you to be proud of me."

Silas looked down again. "Nothing can stop that."

His Uncle took a long sigh, "I wish that were so." He said sadly. "I wish all things were as simple as they must seem to you, beloved."

Silas let the silence that followed last as long as he was able to. His Uncle was too deep into another world for him to offer any comfort, and knowing he could do no good there; he did the only thing he could. He left. "I have school tomorrow." He muttered. "I have to go." He rose and began to walk out, leaving his Uncle lost in thought. Then, more on impulse then actual mission, Silas turned and faced him. "Conaire, do you love me?"

Conaire's face lifted from its pallor and lit up. The smile returned, as he nodded. "More then anyone else."


	11. Movement One, Cruelties Envisioned

**Author's Note: Part two of the shotty little chapter which opened up Silas' part. I realized this must seem unformed and off focus but I assure you, I know almost exactly what I'm doing! ****J I hope you enjoy, please forgive errors, review and keep an eye out for updates. **

**Chapter Ten: Movement One: Cruelties Envisioned**

The beat was chaotic and only half realized but Silas followed it like if it the Siren's song. Like it was most afternoons, the school grounds were covered with groups of friends and lovers who huddled together to gossip or entertain each other with stories, complains or other mundane everyday things that made up the course of a teenagers life. Nearest to the lake, Silas could see James Potter and Sirius Black horse-fighting in the dirt, while Remus Lupin lay on his side, watching them like Bacchus watching his women. Peter Pettigrew, hands stuffed in pockets, had a book on his lap and was ignoring them or at least pretending too. Further away, a safe enough distance to maintain the appearance of aloofness was Lily Evans.

And off in the corner, the one nearest to the Groundskeeper's hut, and the Forbidden Forest was the heart of the sound that had so entranced Silas. Sitting on the ground as if she and her minstrel were the only ones in the world, was Jamie Kahle. Jamie was wearing blue jeans and a torn, painfully thin shirt that barely covered anything. She was strumming some idle theme on her guitar with her right hand, stopping every once in a while pausing when some unseen force took her over and made her turn her thigh into a drum. She was smiling haphazardly, looking out through one eye open to her singer, encouraging him through her laughter and amazement to forget all else and continue. To always continue with the music.

And there, not so much singing as chanting, in his cold uncultured voice was Severus Snape. His eyes were shut, and his head was moving in rhythm to Jamie's beat. He was totally replaced, in a world not of his making but in his full control. He ruled the moment with his words: unpolished and rough and sometimes stumbling as he tried to make sense of whatever chaotic dreamscape was running through his mind but full of oceans of emotion: pain, love and hurt for some pain he could not understand.

Silas doubled his step, to catch the last words of Severus' theme before the magic of the moment was lost.

"Prefect child, prefect pyre/ Come with him and dance a while. See his wonder, hear his laughter and only wonder after- if he smiles, if he fools you- did he do himself injury or a boon?" Severus sang, "Prefect child, prefect pyre. Never see the fire consuming/ constituting… a hell you'll never know he always held."

Something happened then, Severus eyes flew open and fixed Silas in his gaze and never losing the beat, Severus continued with a small smile on his lips meant only for Silas; to tease him.

"Watch him smile, watch him love you. Know he's waiting for the day you'll rescue him someway. Prefect child, prefect pyre. Come with him a dance a while. Be amazed, leave a trace in the ash of his embrace."

Jamie had finished her song, and folded her body over her guitar to smile catlike at Silas. "Hey Silly-boy, come to join our jam session?"

"No thanks." Silas shook his head as he fell to his knees facing Severus and Jamie. One never came between them, he knew. When you approached them, you sat before them, like petitioning twin gods. Which was exactly what he was going to do, in a sense. Still, it never hurt to kid the gods. "The beat-knick generation ended with my mother's friends."

"Oh, he insults us!" Jamie shouted, throwing her guitar pick at him.

Snape smiled but said nothing, keeping his eyes on Silas knowingly. He was like some strange urban Buddha, Silas decided, only at this phase Severus was more like Siddhartha then his enlightened alter ego. Today found the Akel Dama Lord in a white dress shirt and hanging tie, with black torn pants and with his tie loose and cloak hanging limp around his uneven, unkempt hair. Melanie had always made him tie it into a ponytail, but Severus having no vanity, liked it lose and oily from the many hours he spent in the dungeons. Sitting close by him, kept away from his book bag for fear of contamination, was a sketchbook whose cover was stripped away and scrawled on. In there, judging on who you talked to, was rumored to be anything from sketches, and poetry, to detailed maps concerning a mercenary attack on the school. And, resting serenely and unimposing over Severus' lap like a sheathed sword was a black umbrella despite the beautiful sun that favored the sky at this hour.

Silas was able to keep Severus gaze for a moment, but eventually squirmed and having achieved his objective, Severus smiled more sincerely as lifted his head. "So tell me, dear one, what are you grinning at?"

"Someone loves me." Silas answered truthfully. His voice was quiet, and introverted as if saying this to too many people would cause the secret to be neglected or destroyed.

"Oh?" Jamie returned with a cool, taunting smile on her face. "And who is this creature who has unwisely fallen for you?"

"My little secret." Like all gods, Silas knew to ask something from these two, he would have to pass their tests.

"I know." Severus said, but really didn't. "It's some doleful vision with dark brown hair and of burnished hues who wears gold like a second skin, and whose eyes, dark as coals, watch you like a toy."

Silas laughed in attempt to appear nonchalant. "Try again."

"Some flax goddess then, with sunshine hair and wheat skin. An endowed woman with pink thighs and milk as sweet as honey and lips that taste like nectar of the gods."

Silas made no attempt to stifle his groan. "Oh no, it's bad Goth poetry!"

Snape looked insulted. "My poetry is never bad. It's under appreciated."

"Like all Gothic poetry, right?" Jamie asked, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Exactly." Severus said with finality. "And while I love talking about myself, this doesn't excuse you from telling us who your beloved is."

Silas turned and for a moment truly meant to tell Severus who had spoken those simple words to him. A moment later, shame took his voice. He was loved, and this was not something Silas had ever felt before, not truly. Not like Severus with his warm legacies or Jamie and her Hufflepuff family. Severus was a golden boy, loved by family and stranger because of his name. He was indulged and pampered and wouldn't for a moment understand what it meant to be in the same room with family, longing for comfort but never receiving it. Jamie was whole and came from a huge family, with generation upon generation falling into step behind her to love her.

People like these didn't-couldn't- know what it was like to stare into the face of your father and know that no matter what you do, no matter how you hurt, or how much you're angered you cannot go to him for comfort for none would be offered and weakness would be punished. Nor would they ever know the humanity of their mother: the baseness and ugliness of the woman who had protected you for the first months of your life.

For them, parents would forever be static and saintly; pictures of beauty and heroism half-remembered and half-imagined that would forever be some vision that worthy of imitation.

For Silas, his parents were something to revile and forget as soon as possible. And as terribly unpoetic and unoriginal as it sounded: if love could not be found at home, how could Silas ever be certain of those who promised him love and compassion on the outside. Be it lovely, lying women or handsome, weak men.

No. There was too much left to chance, and Silas would never gamble with himself. He could lose all else but not himself.

And staring into Severus brown eyes, Silas felt a whisper of mistrust and fear towards his friend. No, he thought, Severus could not understand how profoundly those simple words had affected him and he would not subject his most precious possession to scorn.

"I can't tell you." Silas said. "It's not for you to know."

Severus blinked, "Fine." He said softly. "Keep your little secret."

Jamie reclined, away from him and rested on her knuckles to take in Silas full gaze. "Well, what's up then? If you hadn't come to boast, what brings you here?"

Silas smiled; the gods had accepted him. He could now ask and they would grant. "I came for Severus, actually."

"Me?"

"Your Potions knowledge actually." He turned away, knowing he would have to word this very carefully. "You remember my old cat, the one we found in Hogsmeade and I took to Conaire's bar?"

"Shylock?" Severus nodded, leaning forward. "Yeah, what about the old flea bag?"

"Well Con says Shylock's being acting kind of moody and won't move around, like the arthritis has gotten worst. And you know how Con is about Healers…" Severus' face darkened in sympathy, urging Silas to continue with his farce. "I was thinking of putting him to sleep." To which he added hurriedly. "You know, something easy and painless, I don't want him to suffer."

Jamie blinked and turned to study her guitar. Silas wondered for a moment if she had seen through him. If she had, she said nothing. Severus, on the other hand, was quietly studying Silas, as was his way before choosing to speak.

"Belladonna." He said simply. "It's harder to find but it should give you something painless for Shylock."

"I need something accessible."

"Oleander leaves, perhaps? You'd have to make sure it's the right dosage though. Too little, and Oleander is just a sleeping potion, a little shy of the right amount and you can make Shylock sicker then he is."

"What's something full proof? Something that won't leave a trace- you know something that can tip Shylock off- but won't be too slow or difficult?"

The demigod closed his eyes in meditation and for a moment, Silas feared he had lost Severus. Jamie had begun to pluck on her guitar strings idly, choosing to ignore this talk and concentrate on something more traditional then her earlier jam session. She began to strum the tune of a Christmas carol, humming the words quietly to herself.

Severus opened his eyes. "Mistletoe. You can brew it with some Oleander if you want to dilute the bad taste and put it in some warm brandy to feed it to Shylock. He'll get sleepy, and then just drift away."

Silas smiled, jumping to his feet. "Thanks Sev, you're an Angel."

"No I'm not." He said simply.

Silas turned to go, counted to five in his head then turned back. "Warm Brandy?" He asked, "Should I be careful, I mean this wouldn't like hurt Con if he drank it by accident would it?"

"If you do a small dose, no." Snape allowed. "But give him two shots of it and it's deadly. You only need about a teaspoon of it for Shylock if you brew it right."

"Thanks, again."

Silas ran back to the Commons, thrilled. He bounded down the stairs, twirling at the foot of them to some silent symphony of his own making. He pictured Con's face in his mind's eye; pictured the way his Uncle's quiet, heated looks would now be fixed on him once Silas revealed to him that he had been able to keep Conaire's air of mercy intact. He would be able to show Conaire there were other, cleaner ways of achieving one's end and they were as easy as putting a cat to sleep. Silas stop, laughed at his cleverness and looked around the empty room. He decided he wanted to celebrate.

Prowling towards the floo, Silas whispered her name into the fire only to see a long mane of blond hair and her sad French eyes peering surprised but pleased back at him.

"Silas," Narcissa purred nervously, looking aside to shoo away friends who were scrambling to see his face. "You called, I heard you weren't the type of boy who'd…how are you?"

"Good." Silas answered easily, leaning closer to the flame. "I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight…"


	12. Movement Two, Setting the Company

**Chapter Eleven: Movement Two, Setting the Company**

Amissa Moon was sprawled upon the couch like a Grecian goddess taken form. Her head rested in Silas' lap, allowing her silver hair fall over his black pants like a waterfall. Ivory arms rested above her head, with her delicate fingers playing with his shirt buttons. She had a thin smile on her lips, as if she enjoyed the conversation she was listening to but could think of better things to do with her time then chat the evening away, even if it was with Severus. And the look she cast to Silas every so often told him everything he needed to know of her intentions.

But Silas wasn't in the mood for sex games. He was too busy plotting his masterpiece. And this would be a masterpiece, he knew. He could craft it to become real and daring. He could make this into something no one had ever seen before. It would be his crowning glory. He now only wished for witnesses.

Severus was laughing at his sentimentality. "You want us, to go to your Uncle's party?"

"Not my Uncle's party. Our party. Our last party." Silas pleaded. "Think about it. This is the last chance we have to enjoy our childhood before all those lectures our parents give us come true. Next year, your going to be obsessed with Hecate exams and interviews, you won't have time for us. Amissa's going to be preparing for her OWLS, I'm going to be bribing teachers left and right just make sure I pass…let's face it, Lucius is the only one of us who's going to have it easy."

At the sound of his name, Lucius lifted his head from the book he was only pretending to read, met Silas' eyes warningly and then returned to his guise. Silas ignored him. He turned towards Snape, meeting the Heir of Akel Dama's eyes head on, and favoring him with his deepest, most sincere look. The unfrocked prince was watching Silas with a type of scrutiny that would do him well in his life as an Auror. He knew something was up. Silas knew he knew. Now it became a game of wits, to see who of the two would blink first.

Snape lost. The boy sighed, dismissing any troubling notion from his mind and exhaling in bravado. "I'll call Tante Lorraine and tell her of your plans." He was looking at Amissa.

She made a false sigh, and nodded. Amissa rarely went against the general consensus of other Illuminatti. "Zaida is going to be very upset with me."

Silas grinned. "Beautiful. You'll come a couple of days before the party, so we can hang out and we'll have a grand time."

"I'm sure whatever's up your sleeve will be memorable." Severus offered, before faking a yawn and standing to retire. He walked to the edge of the female side of the wing, and waited for Jamie to emerge so they could go to bed.

Jamie and Severus were an odd pair. They had been "sleeping" together since their first year, barring occasions with either had a partner. Both would defend to the death the chastity of their love; which only served to alienate Silas' even more from their cause. Love always had constructs and contracts, and the idea of a prefect union without such intimacy struck Silas as curious. He usually dismissed it with the theory that Severus was uncomfortable with the prospect of him taking a Mudblood lover being common knowledge.

Silas watched them retreat into the boy's bedroom and nodded. Yet Snape keep his secrets he thought to himself. Before it was all done, Silas would have his own to worry about.

Looking back, Silas would remember the exams and trip home for the holidays dimly, as he would remember the opening to a play. They just seemed to past before him like smoke, burning his senses and eyes for the moment, but become just as fleeting as vapor and forgotten just as easily. What he would remember would be how his Uncle's bar looked in holiday splendor. To put it simply, the Looking Glass glowed. Garland hung from the bar and stage area, with white lights and red ribbons winding through the greenery at tasteful intervals. The liquor caches were polished and shined under the light, making small rainbows dance through the room. It was early morning when he arrived and the dull pink morning was still safety out of view, affording him privacy as he walked up the stairs to Conaire's private apartment.

For as long as Silas could remember his uncle and aunt had lived in separate homes. Isolde and Conaire would appear at formal events, remain close to each other at parties and society meetings and even exchange chaste public displays of affection. They had a son named Kiernan who Silas never saw because the boy attended a year round boarding school in America. Isolde lived in a glittering town home in London with all her bills, and whims financed out through Conaire's multiple bars and pubs within the city.

Conaire preferred a small home in the flat plains of Kings' County Ireland where, by his best guess, his last human ancestors were descended. He built in a Muggle area, and paid for the upkeep of the Catholic Church there. In return, the parson tended to Conaire's plants and dogs when Conaire was away, and made sure Conaire attended Mass when he was. For most of the year, however, Conaire Kade Malone could be found in the upstairs apartment of the crown jewel of all his establishments- the Looking Glass Cabaret.

The Looking Glass was in a little forgotten metropolitan area, far enough from Calais to be removed from all that city's amenities but still close enough to be grouped with the city when asked where it's location was. In fact, the only claim to fame this city seemed to enjoy was that once during World War Two General Patton had been drunk enough to enter a drunken brawl with Field Marshall Montgomery. Conaire had bought the place this legendary battle had taken place, renamed and redid it, making it to the Looking Glass.

Silas doubted the story was true but it didn't matter. Conaire had bought and loved the place for that reason and so Silas would love it too.

The door to Conaire's bedroom was slightly ajar. Silas heard muffled sounds coming from behind the door, making him pause for a moment before curiosity over took his senses, forcing himself to go nearer. He felt his stomach sink as the sounds made sense in his mind- the deep grunts and heavy breathing. But still, Silas crept closer. He wanted to see.

Peering in, he saw Conaire's bare back facing the door. He saw the muscles tense and work under Conaire's dark skin, and the deep ugly scars that ravaged his torso and arms flex and shift as Conaire moved. His uncle's voice was low, and impeded as if he was psychically fighting back words. Silas watched for a long time, caught in a dim vertigo, until finally Conaire reached his end and fell limp against his paramour.

Silas stumbled back, turned and ran back to a room usually reserved for his pleasure. He jumped under the covers and stared at the ceiling in the darkness. He regretted his episode now that he could not expel the vision from his mind. He felt tears stinging his eyes, mixing with the desperateness of lack of sleep. His heart was pounding in his head, and to try harder Silas dug his head deeper into his pillows; willing slumber to come.

He froze when he heard the door open. Grabbing his last breaths, Silas shut his eyes, pretending to be asleep. He didn't want to see Conaire now. There was a deep throbbing pain in his chest that would only deepen if Conaire was there.

The figure walked into the room quietly but purposefully, making no sounds as the distance between the door and the bed was crossed. Silas felt someone sit on the bed, and faked a moan to pretend to be asleep. He knew Conaire would have known he was there. His uncle always knew. He waited for some greeting or mumbled word for what seemed like an eternity, before the mattress shifted even more under the new weight and Silas felt himself being kissed- softly but passionately. He jumped up, eyes fluttering open in alarm.

Conaire's new lover was sitting there in the pale morning light smiling at Silas knowingly. She was beautiful despite her age, which Silas placed at a little older then Conaire and devoid of any of Conaire's quiet aloofness. This woman exuded confidence; from the crown of short red hair and deep green eyes, to her toned fair body that was only partially covered.

"I felt your eyes on me." She whispered, quietly. "Do you require me?"

"Who are you?"

"I am called Rio Hecate."

"Are you his lover?"

Rio laughed and Silas decided he liked her voice, even if her amusement was at his expense. "Such a queer title for me to bear." She said, mainly to herself. "No, I merely satisfy his longings for a moment." She turned then, to study the doorway as if she half-expected Conaire to appear. "Such a magnificent creature," She mused, idly. "It is a shame he is enslaved so to his memories. But you already knew that didn't you?"

Silas turned. "My Uncle is a good man."

"Yes, but he could be great. He could be a King among insects but he denies himself so much…for you and others like you." Rio's eyes had taken on a darker tone, a secret and self-contained fire that made Silas shiver a little despite the warmth of the closeness between them. When she reached out to touch his chin, to bring his eyes back to hers, he didn't resist. "And again, I think you know that." She whispered. "He talks about you, you know. Very much. He wishes so much for you, and longs to be there for you." She tilted her head, tracing her fingers down his chest. Silas inhaled a little, nervous. "There's so many ways…he wishes he could touch you."

Silas heard himself speaking despite his best effort to remain silent. "Why doesn't he? Can't he see I'm dying for it?"

"Because he fears it. He will not release himself from his self-contained prison." She leaned closer, brushing her lips against his brow. "He will not take what he so desperately desires…because of his conscience, his inhibitions."

"I can help him!" Silas exclaimed, passionately. "I will help him." He felt a rush of power as Rio withdrew from him in surprise. He liked the idea of putting a woman as commanding as she on edge. "He's refusing to do away with one of his enemies but I will do it for him…I'll save him."

Rio's discerning look had returned. "How?"

Silas looked away, humbled.

"You mean to kill this enemy?"

"yes."

"How?" There was no rebuke in the woman's voice. Merely curiosity that was so simple and unassuming that Silas felt assured enough to share. "I'm going to poison him."

"I believe you." Rio laughed again, and began to pet Silas. "But it is a small thing to speak of such business, it is a far different matter to follow through."

"Do you doubt me?" He demanded.

"Not at all, I merely fear for your…execution. If you plan to do this masterfully, you'll need to learn the art behind it." Rio leaned forward, pushing Silas down unto his bed and hovering over him. Silas could smell Conaire's cologne and scent thickly on her and the darkness would afford his imagination a suitable cover. "But don't worry," the woman continued. "I'll teach you what you need to know."

Silas smiled darkly, before shutting his eyes, and pulling Rio nearer to him, basking in the scent before overcoming her with a powerful kiss.


	13. Midnight Clear

**Forgive the short chapter but it gets the point across, and Silas is being difficult to write. I know I haven't updated in far too long so you have my apologies. Please, just muddle through with me.**

**Chapter Twelve: ****Midnight**** Clear**

"Why did you bring me here?" Silas asked bitterly, as he wrapped his coat closer to his narrow frame and trudged in the narrow pathway the woman had craved through the snow.

Rio Hecate turned and favored him with a look that made him feel foolish, and reduced him to silence. They clearly looked out of place in the slum they found themselves though, with Silas in his leather great coat and Rio in white wool. Here the world seemed to be painted in tones of brown, gray and heather. The wind was strong enough to howl through the narrow streets, and everyone here studied the floor only, if they were brave enough to look up, the Muggles only did so to cast nervous angry looks at them before returning to their nightly chores.

Silas cringed as a woman passed nearer to him then he would have liked. Despite himself, he leaned nearer to Rio who laughed and draped an arm around him. "Why did you bring me here?" He asked again.

"To teach you how to kill." Rio answered finally, reaching into her coat and producing a purse. From the purse came a small apple, which she offered to a random street child. The child crept closer, eyes narrowed in disbelief as he studied her. The boy was mature in the face, looking to be Silas' junior by mere years, but the face was older- colder because of a life of want. He snatched the apple from Rio's hand and ran into the darkness to devour it. Rio laughed slightly, and reached into her satchel again.

Silas watched the episode repeated twice, before Rio began to hand out money to those who came to her. He tilted his head at the act of charity, confused as to how this would teach him to kill.

Rio seemed to have read his mind. She motioned him to her side.

""The first thing you must know is how to get near to them. Offer your target what no one else will," Rio instructed as she continued to hand out money to the poor. "Let them trust you, love you even." She smiled as an elderly man began to bless her. "And then, be ruthless and personal."

Something caught Silas' eye in the corner. It was a small child, a girl, huddled against the wall of an alley way, staring at Rio with wide, uncertain eyes. Silas tilted his head, and pulled away from Rio to approach the girl. She yelped and turned to step back.

"Don't run away," He called, quickening his pace to keep up with her. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The girl stopped, and turned. She looked barely out of infancy, with wild curls of brown hair trailing raggedly down her dirty round face. She reeked of sewers and her little dress was torn and soiled. But the girl had the clearest blue eyes Silas had ever seen. Eyes that stared at him pointedly from their dark mask.

"What's your name?" He asked.

The girl was chewing on the cuff of her dress; she paused now only to purr. "Mild."

"Mild?" Silas repeated, squatting down. "Hello Mild, where's your mother?"

Mild shook her head. "Don't have one." She motioned to the elderly man who still clung to Rio. "Tata keeps me."

"And is he a good tata?"

Mild made a sound. She lifted her chin, "I'm cold."

"Well," Silas chirped, shrugging out of his coat. "I can fix that, come here."

Mild swam in the leather coat, but she didn't seem to care. She giggled when Silas draped it around her small frame and shrieked in joy as he swooped her up into a spin. Silas laughed, despite himself. The girl weighted nothing in his arms and the way her small fingers clutched his shirt as he twirled her spoke of infinite trust. After he was done, as he squatted to release her, Mild kissed his cheek and asked for another ride.

Silas was about to agree, when he felt Rio near him again. He suddenly wished her gone from him, and stepped quietly between Rio and Mild, protecting the child. She gave him a questioning look for a moment before shaking her head at him, disturbed.  
"Do not forget why you are here." Rio warned, quietly.

Silas bit his lip. "I know why I'm here. To save Conaire."

"Then do what you came here for."

"If I finish now or a moment from now what does it matter to you?" Silas demanded. Mild seemed to have sensed something wrong, but in her eagerness to return some of Silas' kindness, the small figure stepped closer to him, twirling her fingers around his and giving Rio a dark look. Silas flinched from the touch, looking down at her.

It hit him then that he could walk away from this.

And for a brief moment, he was tempted.

But instead, he smiled at Mild and squatted down to lift her unto his shoulders. He laughed as her curls tickled his chin, and teased her about weighting nothing. Mild blushed, and squealed at the attention, wrapping her arm around his neck in half-fear. Silas gave Rio a look, before turning towards a dark alley and beginning his walk. Rio turned to distract the grandfather.

The bloody deed would only last a moment.

But what a difference a moment makes.


	14. Deus Ex Machina

**Author's Note: Now, I know what you're thinking. "Wow. It's not dead." Actually it is, I just hate lose ends. Tune in sometime for Lucius and Narcissa's love story and the return of the plot!**

**Chapter Thirteen: Deus Ex Machina **

Karel and Marjorie arrived at the Looking Glass late, but Conaire met them at the door. He was dressed in pale gray, with Isolde in deep blue and on his arm. Behind them, a small string quartet played traditional carols intermingled with waltzes. Silas and Lucius, both in black, trailed behind the parents into the party. In Silas' head Rio's word were buzzing. In his coat pocket was a small bottle of poison. He would only need to bide his time till the right moment came. He would have to be patient.

"You're late," Conaire was admonishing Karel with laughter. He turned for a moment, catching two drinks from the tray of a passing waiter and handing them to Marjorie and Karel. He seemed to remember himself then, and replaced one glass back on the tray. He put his hand on the waiter's arm. "I have a special black tea on the fire. Bring a glass for Master Malfoy, milk, no sugar…" He gave Karel a teasing look. "Light laudanum. I know your headaches at these events, Karel."

"Thank you, Con."

"Nothing to be thankful for." Conaire waved his hand, dismissively and turned to face the couple. "I was worried you weren't coming."

"You know I wouldn't you alone on this night." Karel returned, softly. He leaned over and kissed the corner of Conaire's mouth chastely. Conaire tiled his head at the last moment and pressed his lips to Karel's, teasing the corner of his mouth with his tongue. Marjorie made an annoyed noise and disappeared into the crowd. Lucius followed shortly afterwards. Silas made a choice to pretend to be searching the room. Karel, ignoring Silas, pressed closer to Conaire. "Where is he?"

Conaire bowed his head, eyes darting to the far end. "By the far corner, near the quartet." His voice turned bitter. "He brought his little sister."

Silas turned, to catch a vision of his quarry.

The man looked barely out of his youth. He wore, as best one could, a red, crushed velvet coat with a white Victorian lace shirt underneath, black trousers and high boots. The man looked he was a disciple of the fledging movement of young adults taking London now who seemed insisting on referring to themselves as architecture: the Goths. His skin was prefect for it too; a smooth creamy white that glistened like polished bone. His hair was sable and curled, framing his narrow face too perfectly to be natural.

On hand slid into his coat to remove produce a small silver box that the man opened seamlessly with one hand, and lifted to his nose, inhaling deeply.

Cocaine. Silas shook his head. It would be easier then he thought.

There was a girl standing next to Alphonse shared his bone white complexion, jet black hair and otherworldly taste, although she carried it better. Her hair was knotted on top her head in an attractive display. She wore a gentleman's suit, of a dark purple that at first appeared black. The boots she wore were simple riding chops, reaching to her calf but flat-footed, as if she were preparing to race rather then dance tonight. Her hands, covered with dainty black gloves, carried a riding crop that she held like a sword.

The girl felt Silas' eyes on her, and quite unashamedly turned her head towards his direction. Her eyes were a mixture of red jasper and fine merlot: a deep violet color that left him with the deep-seated impression that there was something _wrong_ about this girl.

Her gaze held him until Silas flinched, and then, content with her victory, the girl looked away.

"You know I should kick you firmly in your family jewels and stalk out of this place."

"I knew if I waited long enough something interesting would happen." Severus Snape interjected as he joined Amissa by Silas' side.

Snape had his arm firmly around Amissa's waist, if only to avoid courting females although Silas was certain Severus was enjoying touching the creamy white skin that exposed itself under her shirt before it met her low-rise pants. It was obvious from the light eights Severus was tracing her skin with the tips of his cold fingertips, and the dark, teasing smile Amissa was sporting.

The pair had come dressed for scandal. Amissa wore jeans, and a shirt that did nothing to keep out the chill but ensured that many a male imagination would be in the gutter. Severus wore dress robes, with his ever present umbrella. It was draped over his arm, as he sipped from a glass filled with Brandy.

They looked like a true Slytherin couple: the woman and her benefactor with sentiments of love or true devotion never entering the equation.

"So, Silas…" Severus drawled in a mock-bored voice. "Where's the victim?"

Silas blinked and turned face the Akel Dama Lord. "I'm sorry?"

"There's no creature adorning your arm just yet." He told him, "That means I can only assume some virginal beauty has captured your lusts for the time being."

"You're a bastard, Severus."

"Of course I am." Snape nodded. "Of the highest degree. But that doesn't mean I'm being false." His dark eyes met Silas. "Now, tell me who she is."

Silas looked again to Alphonse, and his wine eyed beauty. He tucked his hands into his pockets, fingering the small vial of poison he nurtured till this time. He turned and studied Conaire. His heart was pounding in his chest. "No lady occupies my mind...just one fell deed."

Severus took a step back, meeting Silas with a knowing look. He shook his head, and turned to Amissa. "Come, the air's getting sour here."

Silas picked up a flute from a passing waiter. He turned, admiring it and tapping the vial towards the glass. A quick movement; even quicker to be forgotten, before he was back again with a cool smile. He reached over touching Amissa's back. "But dear pet, would you leave before helping me?"

Amissa smiled, tilting her head. "And since when did you need a woman's help?"

"I have only need of you." Silas saw Severus bit back his snide rebuttal, knowing the Akel Dama Lord was curious to see what would progress. He twirled her, and despite herself Amissa laughed. Severus smiled. Neither one could resist Silas for long. "That pale skinned couple there that appears to have been left over from the Enlightenment are my father's business partners." Silas offered his best smile to align perfectly to the way Amissa perked up upon hearing the prospect of rich, elegant fresh game. "Now it's been left to me to ensure the gentlemen is…well-indulged."

"So you want me to whore for you?" Amissa asked quietly, eyeing Silas out of the corner. Silas met her smile with his own overconfident grin as he slid his hand around her waist, and began to nibble on her neck.

Severus during this time had fallen back, returned the Brandy to a passing waiter and the Auror-paranoid gaze had returned. Silas made a note to avoid his gaze for his moment. Severus would not have stopped him, but Silas felt no desire to explain himself to someone who someday would be an enemy. Silas paused but chose not to think of that revelation.

He had no desire to accept the truth of that thought. He continued to ignore the Siddhartha and remained intent on his Grecian Goddess. Smiling, he said, "I would send the finest to any of my allies and who would think to equal you, Amissa?"

"Flatter." She purred, taking the drink from his hand. "Silver-tongued viper."

"So you'll help?" He asked.

In response, Amissa walked away with a purposeful sway of her hips. Silas watched her as she curled into Alphonse's company as she had graced Severus' arm. Silas licked his lips and watched proudly as the man sipped from the drink she offered him. He had done it.

He had protected Conaire. He had done as he said.

And Severus knew. Somehow the Auror-to-be, the Siddhartha knew because when Severus spoke again, Silas heard something in his tones that he had never heard directed at him: disgust. "And is your game worth it, Silas?" Severus intoned.

Silas turned, watching him. Judging. He couldn't have known, Silas told himself. There was no way Severus could have known of Conaire's dealings in the underworld, in the involvement of Dark Wizards, or Silas own act of murder. Severus was not savvy enough to outwit Silas. Of course not. "Game, Alexander?" Silas retuned, "Of what do you speak."

Snape stepped around Silas daintily, watching Amissa and Alphonse. "You could tell me." Severus whispered. "But there is a game. I can see it in your eyes. You're happy. And Silas, you are only ever happy when you are destroying someone. You're the only one I know who truly laughs when breaking down a person."

"It's well that you put the drink away, Severus. You're speaking nonsense."

"That's all that you are, Silas." Snape put a hand up, reaching for Silas and tracing his muscles under his hand. "Do not misunderstand. I love that about you." His dark eyes burned into Silas. "I just don't trust it. So, I'll ask again. Who is that man and what have you planned?"

"I told you, he's a friend of my father's."

"And what did you slip into his drink?"

Silas stumbled but only inwardly. He licked his lips and shrugged. "Something to loosen him up. What the booze and Amissa can't break down about him, the drug will. It's nothing serious…mother."

"I don't trust you."

"What, Severus? Do you think I'd kill him?"

Severus hesitated then, and shifted. His hand fell to his neck and soothed over his collar. He seemed paler now, as if the invocation of death had chilled him somehow. When he chose to speak again, Snape's voice had lost its bite, thankfully. "Forgive me Silas. I meant nothing…the brandy talking."

"Of course." Silas returned. "Severus, is it worth it? Holding everyone at arm's reach to maintain the guise that you are Akel Dama's Lord. The next King of Hecate Compound?"

"We all have our destinies, Silas. We all have something we would surrender everything for."

"The Auror's are yours?"

"…No. But I cannot be anything else. I am a Snape." Severus turned back, eyes sad. "That's how it works, I was born a Snape. I am an Auror, then. To be an Auror, to be my father, I sacrifice everything else. It's my purchase price. We all have it, like I said. We all have something we'll give everything for." Severus shrugged, looking his age for one brief moment as if he chose not bend under the weight Silas could not see. "Do you have something like that, my Silly-boy? Do you have something you'd give up…everything for."

Silas looked over, catching Conaire in his gaze. The older man seemed to feel his eyes on him because Conaire turned, and met Silas'. His face brightened softly and he smiled at Silas. When he was sure no one was looking, Conaire blew him a kiss.

Silas stared for a long time into the face of his beloved, thinking. He had just murdered for this man. Twice. He had sacrificed his own innocence for him, had betrayed and sinned against man, Amissa and God for him and now staring into Conaire's clear, sagely face Silas realized he felt nothing for him.

"No. Not yet." Silas demurred, as easily as if he'd been talking Quidditch. "Maybe. I doubt it."

There was a pause, and then. "Me too."


End file.
